


Government Issue Guide

by Katef



Category: The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sentinels and Guides Are Known, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Future Fic, M/M, Sentinel/Guide Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-09-12 07:22:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 21
Words: 72,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16868611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katef/pseuds/Katef
Summary: In a world where sentinels and guides are known, and generally respected, the military reserves the right to draft and assign suitable guides as needed for unbonded sentinel service personnel.  Perhaps unsurprisingly, sometimes this right is abused.When Captain Jim Ellison comes fully online, despite his personal reservations he is assigned one such draftee, and both men's lives are radically and irrevocably changed.





	1. Duty Calls

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not yet certain exactly where this plot bunny will take me, but I'm keen to take up the challenge. If I have to pull the plug at some stage, I promise it will be at an appropriate point. One way or another, I promise it will be finished.  
> K x

**Chapter 1: - Duty Calls:**  


**Guide Barracks, Sentinel and Guide Training Unit, Ft. Findlayson, WA:**  


“Up and at ‘em, you idle bunch of good-for-nothing time-wasters! And that means you, Sandburg, you useless piece of shit!” 

The stentorian bellow instantly roused the drowsing figures in the trainee Guides’ dormitory, and there was an immediate rush to do the NCO’s bidding. As the occupants of the rows of bunks hastened to comply, the object of his particular disdain followed suit with alacrity. However, even as he sprang to attention at the end of his cot, Blair Sandburg knew that he truly was wasting his time. As far as Sergeant Murphy was concerned; as was his superior, Platoon Sergeant Andover also; a conscripted guide like Blair was beneath contempt. It would make no difference to them if Blair was consistently the fastest and best performer in any or all fields of requisite military activity. He was always going to be treated as worthless scum, on account of his obstinate attempts to avoid military service. Old stagers like his training NCOs simply couldn’t countenance individuals who treasured freedom of choice above forced coercion and conscription. In their opinion, Uncle Sam required guides for serving sentinel personnel, and those who failed to answer the call of duty and enlist voluntarily were invariably subjected to the most rigorous and heartless training and depersonalisation regimes. 

Even as Blair fought to maintain a blank expression, desperately trying to calm the galloping of his heart, Sergeant Murphy planted himself in front of the small recruit, using his superior height and weight to deliberately intimidate his prey. However, instead of delivering his customary deprecating diatribe; more often than not accompanied by a vicious blow or two with his ever-present swagger stick, or punctuated by the terse order to ‘drop and give me fifty’; this time it was even worse as far as the terrified and brow-beaten young man was concerned. As he listened in growing despair, the sadistic Murphy growled, “You have five minutes to get yourself ready, _Guide Sandburg!_ Your sentinel awaits, you undeserving little shit. You’re being assigned as from today so get your act together! God knows how or why, but apparently you’re compatible with a real hero, God help him. Captain Ellison has my undying sympathy. How unlucky can he be to be burdened with a namby-pamby little faggot like you? Especially a failed draft dodger!” 

Most of the sergeant’s cruel words went over the panic-stricken young man’s head. All he knew was that the moment of truth had finally arrived, and he was to be issued to a military sentinel despite his wishes, just like an organic piece of kit. Once bonded, his life as he knew it would be over, and there would be no escape. He was doomed to be the companion of a man he neither knew nor chose until death released him. 

It was all he could do not to scream out loud in his despair and frustration.  


\-------------------------  
**Captain Ellison’s quarters, shortly afterwards:**  


James Joseph Ellison was not a happy man. A Captain in the elite Army Rangers, he was a decorated and highly successful officer, who up until now had fulfilled his duty to the best of his ability despite what he considered to be an unwanted and undesirable handicap. His ‘problem’ was that he was an unbonded Alpha Sentinel, meaning he had all five senses heightened to an extraordinary degree. It was supposed to be a huge genetic advantage, of which most people would be extremely envious, but he refused to see it that way. Whereas it was usual for one such as he to have a companion, or ‘Guide’, to back him up and ground him when in the field, so far he had insisted on managing by himself simply because he didn’t want to be burdened with the responsibility of another soul. One who, once bonded to him, would be reliant on his protection for the rest of his – or her – life, just as he would be forced to rely on said guide’s voice and grounding touch to allow him to use his senses to their full extent without the danger of zoning. As a self-confessed loner, whose personal preference when away from his team and his duties was to seek solitude, the thought of having some whining guide permanently underfoot or in his quarters was anathema to him. 

Jim’s current predicament was due to the fact that, although for the best part of his thirty-odd years he had managed to forcibly repress his senses; even if it meant that he couldn’t ever use them to the max; recently he had found his control slipping. He knew he was a damned good soldier even without his so-called ‘gift’, so had never been overly concerned about trying to find out just how good his range actually was. However, during his last deployment his control had slipped to such an extent that he had actually zoned at the worst possible moment during an armed assault, and he had only survived thanks to the quick thinking of his second-in-command, Lieutenant Sturgis. Jim was mortified by his almost-failure, recognising that he was now fully online whether he liked it or not. And because of that, he was now going to have to accept the inevitable if he wanted to stay on in active service. He was going to have to be assigned a compatible Guide, and he hated it. 

Prowling discontentedly around his quarters, his movements as graceful and predatory as the black jaguar that was his spirit animal, Jim frowned as he recalled the interview with his commanding officer earlier that morning. He couldn’t disagree with Colonel Masefield’s conclusions, but he didn’t have to like them, and his anger and resentment burgeoned as he pondered on the exchange.  


\----------------------------  


**Earlier that morning, Colonel Masefield’s office:**  


“At ease, Captain Ellison.” Colonel Masefield looked up from his seat behind his desk, his shrewd gaze taking in every detail of the man who stood before him. Captain James ‘Jim’ Ellison was a fine figure of a man to be sure, and everyone’s idea of the stereotypical all-American fighting man. At a couple inches over six feet in height, Ellison’s physique was magnificent, and kept rigorously in shape by regular exercise, although Masefield well knew that there was nothing in the least narcissistic about the man. As far as Ellison was concerned, his body was merely an important tool, and therefore it was in his and the army’s best interest to keep it in good condition. 

At present, his patrician features wore a carefully blank expression; the ice blue eyes betraying nothing of the man’s inner thoughts; but Masefield was aware that his officer was possessed of a keen intellect, and was loyal and ethical in the extreme. And not only that, but his courage under fire was indisputable, such that he fully deserved the respect and even love of all the men under his command. 

On the other hand, he could also be short-tempered, outspoken where necessary, and had no patience with fools or foolishness of any kind, and woe betide anyone who had the effrontery to question his dedication to his men, his country and his duty. 

Even in the light of all these mostly positive observations, Masefield knew that the upcoming interview wasn’t going to be easy for either of them, but it was unavoidable now for the simple reason that Ellison also had a major drawback, at least in the man’s own opinion. For almost anyone else, the fact that he had such strong latent sentinel abilities would have been a cause for celebration, but not where Ellison was concerned. Masefield didn’t know the ins and outs of the backstory, but for some reason Ellison had learned to loathe rather than embrace his genetic gift, and now that he had apparently come fully online, the only real answer was undoubtedly going to inspire nothing but anger and resentment in his subordinate. But it had to be done, so he braced himself to get on with it. 

“Take a seat, Jim,” he said, offering the other man a slight smile. “No need to stand on ceremony for now, son.” 

Ellison nodded shortly and did as he was bid, although he didn’t relax any, remaining rigidly in control even while seated. 

Sighing internally, Masefield nodded understandingly, if with resignation. _Might as well get it over with,_ he thought, so he sat back and began. 

“So, Jim. First off I want to congratulate you and your team for your success in the last mission. A positive outcome, plus a successful extraction with no American casualties is something to be proud of. Now, I know you’ll not be feeling too smug about it personally, but the fact remains that, despite your little side trip to la-la land, your team was well enough trained and determined to carry out their duty come what may, and that is a credit to your leadership, Captain.” 

As expected, Jim’s face betrayed mild disgust rather than self-satisfaction, even though he appreciated his commanding officer’s commendation of his team. They at least were worthy of the praise, even if he himself was not. 

“Thank you, sir. I’ll certainly relay your words to my team, and I know that they’ll appreciate the recognition, sir. Lt Sturgis in particular deserves a special mention for his quick thinking when I was, uh, _incapacitated._ I take full responsibility for the potential failure, sir. I would like to say that it will never occur again, but I think that would be unwise now. I’m truly sorry, sir.” 

“I realise that, Jim. And although I admit that if the outcome had been compromised by your _incapacity,_ as you call it, I wouldn’t be having this particular conversation with you; it wasn’t, and I know as well as you do that there is a remedy. Even if it’s one you’ve never wanted. The time has come, Jim, and you can’t fight it anymore. Not if you want to remain in this unit, and you know it. 

“So, as from today you are being issued with a guide. As luck would have it, the genetic screening of our latest batch of recruits has thrown up a particularly strong candidate. He has just completed his basic training, and will be reporting to your quarters later today. His name is…” and here he scanned the file on his desk, “Ah, here it is. G I Guide Blair Sandburg. Age twenty, and straight out of college. 

“Only one drawback that I can see, and that is that he’s a draftee, so you might need to keep an eye on him to begin with. But an officer with your experience shouldn’t have any trouble in that respect, I dare say. Government Issue Guides are what they are, volunteer or conscript, am I right?” 

Jim’s expression had soured at Masefield’s summary, not at all convinced that it was quite so simple. Considering that he’d never wanted any sort of guide, the last thing he needed now was some resentful, forcibly conscripted kid. But guides with the sort of ability required to partner an alpha sentinel were relatively few and far between, which was undoubtedly why this one hadn’t been allowed to demur or slip through the recruiters’ net. He couldn’t really blame his CO for the man’s somewhat blasé attitude to Jim’s possible bonding problems, because even though Masefield was well-informed for a ‘mundane’, he still had no real comprehension of what a fully committed sentinel and guide partnership consisted. No, Jim was just going to have to suck it up and make sure that his newly-assigned guide found out soon enough what was required of him. 

Straightening in his seat, he met Masefield’s questioning gaze. “If that’s all, sir, permission to return to my quarters? I’d like to prepare for meeting my new guide, sir.” 

And there really wasn’t anything more for his CO to add, so he replied, “Permission granted, Captain Ellison. As you already know, you’ll have the recommended two weeks’ minimum bonding time in which to acclimatise your guide to your personal requirements as regards domestic duties and working in the field, after which you will both be assessed for your suitability to return to active duty. It will, of course, be up to you to decide in what capacity you’ll want your guide to serve, and to what extent he will require the necessary combat and firearms training. Good luck, Jim!” 

Rising to his feet, Ellison saluted smartly and about turned to march out of the office, his mind already grappling with the potential difficulties he was likely to encounter during this unsought and undesirable bonding.  


\------------------------------  


Back in his quarters, Jim’s irritated pacing was halted by a knock on the door. Even with his senses turned down to fairly low levels, his hearing easily picked up on two visitors, one of whose heartbeats galloped erratically, while his sense of smell latched eagerly onto a particularly enticing scent, even though it was tainted with distress. His Guide was here, and suddenly Jim needed to see him for himself. Never before had his senses reacted so strongly in the proximity of any guide, and he hadn’t even set eyes on the man yet. His inner sentinel was pretty much purring in happy anticipation, and Jim found the feeling disconcerting to say the least. 

“Enter!” he barked, eyes fixed on the door. It opened to reveal two very different figures, but although Jim peripherally registered the big, tough-looking Sergeant Murphy, he barely acknowledged the man, his full attention centred on the smaller, younger one, who looked as if he was on the verge of a full-scale panic attack. Even as he listened distractedly to Murphy’s introductions, Jim concentrated everything he had on the trembling recruit before him. 

“Platoon Sergeant Andover’s respects sir. This is G I Guide Sandburg, sir, at your service. He has tested out as a highly rated empath, sir, so should suit your requirements. He has completed minimum basic training, sir, and it should also be mentioned that he is a draftee, sir; but with a firm hand, he should serve you well. 

“If, however, he fails to meet your expectations, he can be returned to the Guide Training Unit for retraining as necessary as long as full bonding hadn’t taken place.” 

Jim nodded dismissively, simply wanting to get rid of the irritating NCO. “Thank you, Sgt Murphy. Your advice is noted, as is your warning. That will be all,” Jim stated decisively, relieved when the man saluted smartly and turned to exit, although he couldn’t fail to see the censorious glare Murphy shot at the hapless young guide as he left. Like all the best drill sergeants, of necessity Murphy was tough and strict, but Jim knew that he also had something of a reputation for being a bully, so he had to wonder just how much his potential companion had suffered at his hands. 

He was about to find out. 

Jim continued to inspect the guide – Sandburg – cataloguing everything about him. Despite their present erratic pounding, Sandburg’s heartbeats were instantly memorised, while Jim sought to disregard the sour taint of fear that overlay the young man’s delectable personal scent. Physically, Sandburg was everything and more than Jim could have wished for. True, on the occasions when he had sought to scratch an itch in situations where there was a lack of willing women Jim had taken advantage of a freely-offered buddy-fuck with no strings attached, but it had always been with men of a similar type to himself; buff and built. However, Sandburg couldn’t have been more different, although he wasn’t at all feminine. Several inches shorter than Jim at around 5’ 6” tall, the young man had a compact, perfectly proportioned figure, which was slender without appearing to be fragile. Jim had no doubt that the sleek young muscles beneath the unflattering BDUs would have been toned by rigorous PT sessions, but were not bulked out by habitual gym work. 

It was his face that instantly drew the attention though, and rightly so. Although at present sheened with the sweat of terror, his brow was smooth and broad above a neat nose, well-defined cheekbones and a firm chin. His huge blue eyes were wide and scared, his expression pure deer-in-the–headlights, while the lush-lipped mouth trembled in a vain attempt to maintain a semblance of control. Although he had had a regulation buzz cut, the slightly longer hair on top of his head suggested that it would be a riot of dark auburn curls if allowed to grow out, and Jim was surprised to feel an unexpected surge of desire to be able to run his fingers through such tempting locks. 

All in all his guide-to-be was beautiful in a purely masculine way, but right now seemed to be on the verge of either bolting or passing out on the spot. 

His visual scan complete, Jim moved to touch the smaller man, his need to fully imprint his guide overwhelming. However, an incidental thought occurred to him as he did so. Sandburg’s sheer terror was buffeting against him like an almost palpable entity, and he was surprised at how it affected him. Through no particular fault of his own, Jim had become accustomed to adopt the mind-set generally accepted within the ranks of unbonded military sentinels, which was that Government Issue Guides were no more or less important than any other useful and necessary item of standard equipment, such as boots, uniforms, rifles etc. The fact that he was now confronted with a young man who was a person in his own right, and a truly terrified one at that was more than a little unsettling. 

And became even more so when the kid’s nerve suddenly broke, and he darted away from Jim’s outstretched hands, his fight or flight instinct abruptly kicking in as he desperately sought to escape. At that moment, the consequences of disobeying orders were of no importance compared to the need to get out – get away from this predatory sentinel. This officer who was about to take him against his will and ruin his life forever. 

Snarling furiously, Jim leapt after the fleeing figure, grasping him tightly from behind and throwing him face down on the bed, surprised at the strength and urgency of the smaller man’s frantic struggles. Sandburg wriggled and bucked up, his gasps and cries of fear and anger half muffled by the pillow beneath his face; desperation fuelling his actions even as he knew that he was beaten; tears of pure misery leaking from eyes now tightly closed as his adrenalin surge finally dissipated. 

Feeling the guide’s strength wane, Jim slackened his grip slightly, his own anger at the attempted rejection tempered by reluctant sympathy as he registered Sandburg’s bitter despair. But that wasn’t the only thing he had noticed while pinning the struggling man to the bed. Even beneath the layers of clothing, sentinel touch had registered the heat of recent injury on Sandburg’s back and upper arms, and Jim knew he had to see for himself just what the kid’s uniform was hiding. As soon as he felt the guide still, he sat back and demanded the young man’s attention. 

“Sit up, Guide, and listen up! I have no intention of hurting you unnecessarily, but don’t ever try that again, you hear? I get that you don’t want to be here, but orders are orders, and you know it, so suck it up!” 

Releasing the young man’s arms, Jim shifted back to take his weight off the smaller body, allowing the guide to lever himself up, twisting reluctantly around to sit on the bed beside Jim, tear-streaked face flushed with shame and pain. 

Frowning in irritation, Jim growled, “Stand up, soldier. And don’t move!” 

When Sandburg did so, Jim circled him slowly, his frown deepening as he realised he could wait no longer to see what lay beneath the guide’s clothing, and unfortunately he knew that it wasn’t just his tempting body. 

“OK, Guide. Strip. Everything.” He knew the guide would be upset, but his training would ensure that he obeyed; especially now Jim had asserted his authority. 

His face reflecting his mortification and no little fear, Blair did as he was commanded, his fingers fumbling at buttons and zips as he complied with the Captain’s bidding. Soon he was down to his undershorts, but he guessed that that wouldn’t be enough, and he was right. 

“I said everything, Guide,” Jim reiterated, but this time his tone was much gentler. Because he could now see the extent of the damage to Sandburg’s back and shoulders, and he had a terrible feeling that that wasn’t all. 

Trembling harder, Blair pushed down his shorts and kicked them away, standing rigidly to attention as Ellison moved behind him again. 

“My God!” The shocked words were breathed as Jim peered at the young man’s buttocks. Whereas the kid’s back bore the marks and bruises from far too many blows from a cane or similar object, there was a raised and livid welt across the pale skin of both otherwise delectable ass cheeks which looked suspiciously like a barely-healed brand from a hot iron. Stretching out a hand to run a gentle finger over the rough and sore-looking patch, he was hardly surprised when Sandburg hissed in pain. 

“What was this, Sandburg? Who did this? Tell me, Guide!” 

Blair swallowed hard, his indecision clear in his expression. He knew he had to obey Captain Ellison’s orders, but he was terrified of what the consequences might be if he did. Murphy and Platoon Sergeant Andover had warned him of what would happen to him if he betrayed them in no uncertain terms, and he had no reason to doubt that they’d carry out their threats. 

“Come on, Guide! Answer me!” Jim was getting impatient, even though he could guess why the kid was being so reticent. 

“It…it was a punishment, sir,” Blair finally managed. “F…for not obeying orders, sir. S…Sgt Murphy did it, sir” and he tailed off, staring at the wall in front of him and trying to avoid looking at Ellison for fear of what he might see in the powerful and intimidating sentinel’s eyes. 

Jim stepped in front of him and put a not ungentle hand beneath Blair’s chin, forcing the smaller man to meet his questioning gaze. 

“What did he use, Guide?” Jim demanded gently, although he was unhappily sure he had a fair idea already. Even so, the Guide’s response was even worse than expected, and he felt a curl of fury and disgust coil in his gut, neither of which emotion was directed at the young man before him. 

“It…it was a poker, sir. H…he said that he’d…uh… _use_ it on me if I didn’t do what I was told, sir,” and the young face flushed again with shame and remembered fear as he tried to turn his head. 

“Oh, my good God!” Jim muttered again to himself. Sure he knew that things sometimes went on in the boot camps during training that were occasionally less than savoury, especially in civilian eyes, but what Sandburg was implying was far beyond merely unacceptable. He had to make sure, for his own sake as well as for Sandburg’s. 

“Did he force you, Guide? Is that what you mean?” he asked quietly but firmly. 

“Y…y…yessir. He wanted me to have…uh…oral sex with him, sir. When I refused, he got the poker and burned me. I was s…so frightened that he’d do even worse. So I did what he wanted, sir,” he finished in an almost sub-vocal whisper. “I’m sorry, sir,” he added timidly, when Jim huffed in anger and dismay. 

Looking up sharply at the frightened words, Jim met the fearful gaze again. Although his own expression was stern and uncompromising, his words were firm but kind as he sought to reassure the hurting guide. Like it or not, the kid was one of his team now, and deserved his unflinching support. 

“No, Guide Sandburg, this wasn’t your fault. You shouldn’t be apologising to me for what was done to you. How could you disobey after being hurt and threatened like that? It explains your fear responses, at least in part, and I’m angry about that for both our sakes. And I shall have to report this, you realise? Something like this cannot go unpunished. No guide, even a conscripted one, deserves that kind of cruelty and coercion. It’s sexual assault, pure and simple. 

“But there’s no way I’ll allow you to suffer for telling me the truth, Sandburg. As long as you’re in my care, I’ll protect you, understand? I’m hard-wired to do the same for any guide as you know.” 

And despite his anxiety and still deeply-rooted misgivings, Blair found himself wanting to believe in the officer, and perhaps even in the sentinel too.  


\------------------------  


TBC


	2. First Impressions and Mixed Messages

**Chapter 2: First Impressions and Mixed Messages:**  


Despite Jim’s simmering anger, and his desire to report Sandburg’s assault as soon as possible, there was a deeper, primal need to be assuaged first, and that was to complete the full imprinting of the guide on all his senses. However, his inner sentinel wasn’t so far gone that he was prepared to ride rough-shod over the young man’s already wounded sensibilities, so he somewhat grudgingly offered a compromise. He was determined now to bond fully with Sandburg as soon as he could, knowing instinctively that this guide was the only one for him, but he was going to try and do it in gradual increments if possible. He suddenly found that he valued the guide’s trust as much as he desired his body and his grounding presence, and that realisation shocked him. Picking up Sandburg’s undershorts, he held them out to the shivering young man. 

“Here, Sandburg, put these on. I suspect it’ll make you feel a little less vulnerable, and I need to imprint you. Right now, I know that the full bond isn’t possible without forcing you, and I don’t want to do that, whatever you might believe. You’re in no fit state to accept more than the working bond. But I do need that imprinting, so let’s get on with it, OK? I’ll try to be as quick as possible.” 

He was gratified to see the flash of relief in the glance Sandburg sent him as he donned the shorts with alacrity, and when he nodded towards the bed, the guide responded with only marginal reluctance. Perhaps this was going to be OK after all, despite the several strikes already against them.  


\------------------------  


From Blair’s point of view, he couldn’t have been more unsettled if he tried. The past couple of hours had been so confusing he hadn’t yet been able to make any sort of sense out of them, pun definitely _not_ intended. First he had been informed that his worst fear had been realised, and that he was going to be bonded whether he wanted it or not, only to find that not only did his intended sentinel, Captain Ellison, insist that he wasn’t going to force him, but also appeared to believe Blair’s allegations. Apparently he wasn’t going to punish Blair for his temerity, but claimed instead that he intended to seek retribution for Blair’s hurts. Whether or not Blair’s abusers would actually be punished was secondary in his opinion to the fact that Ellison was going to stand up for him; something that he certainly had not expected. 

But like it or not, Blair was going to have to accept at least a working bond, even if it never went further, so there was no point in trying to delay the inevitable any longer. It was just possible that he would never be forced to bond fully and irretrievably, so he had to keep trusting that there might be a promising outcome after all. Without that faint belief to comfort him, he knew that he would succumb to despair, and he so didn’t want to go down that route now. Not when there was cause for hope. 

Lying on the bed, trying to control his breathing as Jim climbed up beside him; at least he took comfort in the fact that the sentinel was still fully clothed. He made a conscious effort to relax, mentally reiterating his favourite mantras as Jim began his sensory exploration. He was surprised to find that, as he was minutely examined from top to toe, sniffed, touched, tasted and listened to, he began to relax properly as his level of trust gradually rose. Yes, certainly the imprinting was intimate in nature by necessity, but somehow Ellison managed to keep it impersonal, even clinical, although who knew what degree of personal restraint he was forced to utilise to maintain such neutrality. And then finally it was done, and both men felt the connection between them snap into place, although without the spiritual aspect. Jim knew that he would recognise his guide anywhere now, and the young man’s grounding presence would suit his needs under pretty much all physical circumstances. But Sandburg’s mental barriers were still intact, their thoughts were still their own, and the irrevocable melding of minds had not taken place. They were bound together as a working partnership, but they were not yet two halves of one soul, as were the highest achieving sentinel and guide teams. 

However, for the time being it was enough, and even if Jim found himself now wishing to actually take that final step, where before he had fought against it tooth and nail, he knew that his guide wasn’t ready yet. But surely there was plenty of time now. Time enough to win over the young man in order to persuade him to take that leap of faith. 

He hoped. 

Then again, he had no idea how Blair was going to respond to being introduced to Jim’s team. There was no knowing how he was going to react to that hardened group of combat-ready soldiers, or they to him. So perhaps it was as well to keep their options open for the time being, because at least a working bond could be broken, albeit with no little discomfort on both their parts, whereas as far as he understood, a full bond was for life. 

But right now, he decided that they could both benefit from a bit of down-time, as he could tell that the guide was worn out, no doubt from being so stressed for such a protracted period. And he realised that his senses would appreciate a bit of extra physical contact also, so he lay down comfortably and reached for his new partner, wrapping himself around the smaller body and gratified to find that they fitted together perfectly.   


\--------------------------------  


Surprisingly exhausted, even though he didn’t know why, Blair found himself turned carefully and tucked into Jim’s bigger, warm body back to chest, with the sentinel spooned up behind him. And he was astounded to realise that it felt good. He felt protected and comforted in a way he never had before, at least not since childhood, if then, and the sensation gave him pause for thought. But he wasn’t going to allow himself to be lulled into a false sense of security. Not yet. There was too much at stake, and he’d known Ellison for a mere few hours. Then again he wasn’t going to complain about the opportunity to rest a while, so he allowed his tense muscles to relax even though his mind wasn’t quite ready to shut down yet. 

Wrapped in Jim’s powerful but gentle embrace, Blair couldn’t help but wonder about the character of the man and consider how he himself was reacting to him. He realised he knew nothing about him, other than the fact that Murphy had referred to him as a ‘hero’. For sure, he understood that the units at Fort Findlayson were frequently involved in covert operations. After all, it was the principle centre for training sentinel and guide teams, and they were admirably suited to such clandestine activities, but he knew nothing about such things. As a self-proclaimed pacifist, apart from a general dislike of violence and fighting whether government sanctioned or not, he had been too concerned with trying to keep his skin relatively intact during his harsh training programme to bother about anything else. But now he supposed that he would have to face up to his new reality, which would undoubtedly involve serious combat training to whatever degree his Captain and sentinel deemed necessary. 

So, how did he think he’d manage? He had no illusions about his lowly stature and woeful lack of machismo, even though he was fast on his feet when necessary. He had relied for most of his life on his quick mind and silver tongue to get him out of difficulties, for the most part very successfully. However, he had to worry about how he’d cope with more than basic firearms training, and it was yet to be seen if he could actually bring himself to use one against another human being. And as for advanced hand-to-hand combat, well, for sure he was looking at a whole new level of pain. 

He guessed that Ellison must be a dedicated and courageous warrior who would undoubtedly stand for no nonsense in the ranks, so Blair figured that that attitude would apply to him also, whether or not the man was hard-wired to protect him. Just because he was Jim’s guide didn’t mean that he’d be given special dispensation to duck out of unpleasant activities, and indeed the pragmatic side of Blair’s character knew he wouldn’t want that anyway. It was going to be hard enough trying to fit in with Jim’s team without giving them undue cause for jealousy. 

But what if he and Jim had met under different circumstances? Jim was a beautiful man to be sure, and Blair had never had a problem with his bisexuality. His evergreen hippy mom had always maintained that it was the person, not the package that mattered, and he was so down with that. Then again, why would someone who bettered Michelangelo’s David look at him in the first place? He was a short, nerdy, longhaired Jew. Well, OK, not longhaired now, but essentially he was still the same despite Murphy’s efforts to change him. An academic and open-minded free spirit at heart. And that sobering thought led unsurprisingly to the unwelcome recollection of how he got into this mess in the first place.  


\---------------------------  


**Three months previously, Rainier University campus:**  


“Hey, Burg! Hold up!” The young voice carried across the parking lot, reaching the ears of his target, who immediately stopped in his tracks, turning to smile at the rapidly approaching figure. Pushing his long curls away from his face, Blair grinned at his friend, who seemed somewhat out of breath. 

“Hey, Chaz, whatcha know? You look frazzled, my man. Can I help?” 

His friend stopped before him, wheezing a little from his exertions, and shaking his head at Blair’s words. It was typical of Sandburg to offer assistance, even when it wasn’t necessary, because it was in the young man’s nature. Although probably the brightest guy Chaz Beckett had ever known, he was also the most unassuming, and it would never occur to him that so many of his friends and students considered him to be the most accommodating also. And that they would do anything for him if he did but ask. 

“Nah, Burg, thanks all the same. But I might be able to help you, my friend. I just heard that the recruiters will be coming to the U tomorrow, so you might want to make yourself scarce. With the worsening state of affairs in the South American drug wars, they’ll be trying to scoop up more guides, I reckon. That’s the last thing you need, huh?” 

Blair frowned, a dark scowl scudding across his normally bright and attractive features. “Shit, Chaz, that’s bad news, man. Thanks for the heads up, I appreciate it. But I don’t think I can absent myself tomorrow completely because I’ve got an Anthro 101 class to teach in the morning, and a seminar in the afternoon. But I’ll keep my head down as much as possible. 

“Having said that, I should be fine. It’s on record that I’ve signed the legal disclaimer against bonding with a sentinel against my wishes, so they can’t force me to join up. I’ve even got my copy of my Declination Statement up on my office wall!” 

Chaz gazed at him worriedly for a moment. “Well, if you’re sure, kiddo. Gotta say I’m not so certain, so make yourself scarce as soon as you can, huh? You know your friends won’t rat on you, don’t you?” 

Blair smiled at that, and clapped his friend’s shoulder. “Thanks, man. That’s good of you to say. 

“So,” he continued, changing the subject. “You going to see the new offering at the film theatre on Friday night? It’s an Indie _film noir,_ so it could be interesting!” 

And now deep in conversation, the two continued to walk towards Hargrove Hall, the building that housed the Department of Anthropology, and Blair’s tiny office-cum-storeroom.  


\--------------------------  


Shortly afterwards, Blair pushed his chair away from his cluttered desk and ran his fingers through his abundant curls. He had finally finished his lecture notes for later that morning and caught up with his marking, so he decided to indulge in a cup of much-needed coffee from his second-hand personal coffee machine. He had about half an hour before he had to present himself for his lecture, so he thought that he deserved a few minutes’ down time. 

Sitting back, and sipping appreciatively at a delicious mugful of the Nectar of the Gods, Blair considered Chaz’s words of warning, wondering if he should take them seriously after all. It was perhaps ironic that he had always found the subject of sentinels fascinating, ever since he first arrived at Rainier as a fifteen year old wunderkind, ready and eager to break away from his nomadic childhood in order to study anthropology with his hero, Dr Eli Stoddard. Heck, his recently awarded Master’s Degree was in Sentinel Studies, and although barely twenty, he already had plans to write his doctoral paper on the role of the Guide, but that didn’t mean that he wanted to become one himself. Sure, he admired those dedicated couples who did so much good work for society, especially the fully bonded ones who were an example to all. But it just wasn’t for him. He simply couldn’t conceive of a life tied to anyone, let alone a high-maintenance individual like a sentinel. He had learned at his mother’s knee to keep his heart to himself, so that he could neither hurt or be hurt by another. 

Besides which, he had had no concept of his own guide potential before undergoing a routine medical examination on being accepted at the U. He had never had much regular schooling, so had never had to take the standard tests, but in retrospect, he decided that it was probably a deliberate omission on his free-spirited mom’s part. Restrictions of any sort, whether bureaucratic or personal were anathema to her, so for sure she would have tried to keep her only son below the radar for his own good. But damn, he wished now that he’d had at least an inkling of just how high his rating actually was. 

Then again, he believed that he was a good teacher, having recently been successful in obtaining a much sought-after TA’s position; working under the renowned Dr Stoddard’s supervision. He had already received some noteworthy accolades even if his unassuming nature wondered at them, and the quality and quantity of his written output was phenomenal. As far as he was concerned, his duty to society was adequately served by teaching young minds and nurturing their desire to broaden their horizons. In other words, his contribution to the many outweighed the contribution he could make to the one, to paraphrase a quote from one of his favourite old-time sci-fi TV series. 

Glancing at his watch, he realised that he needed to get a move on if he wasn’t to be late, so he drained his mug and got to his feet, shelving the disturbing train of thought for the time being. 

Unfortunately for Blair, the following day he was to regret not heeding his friend’s warning and his own amorphous feeling of uneasiness in the mistaken belief that he was at least legally safe from coercion. 

He couldn’t have been more wrong.  



	3. An Unspoken Tradition

**Chapter 3: An Unspoken Tradition:**  


When Blair arrived on campus the following morning, he couldn’t fail to note the location of the mobile recruitment unit. Two large, customised RVs were parked up outside the building that housed the Great Hall and the offices of the university’s administrative hub. Not only that, but the vehicles were guarded by armed, stone-faced soldiers, who were on the alert for any perceived threat from the large crowd of students already surrounding them, not all of whom were welcoming. 

As Blair watched, a young man approached the larger RV, obviously intent on entering, but first having to run the gauntlet of another group who were plainly trying to persuade him not to. Blair supposed that the young man was actually a volunteer guide, in which case he couldn’t help but feel a certain indignation that the student should have to undergo any sort of verbal abuse. It was all very well for Blair to resent the presumption that he should give up his own freedom for the sake of Uncle Sam, but it was hardly right that a volunteer should be intimidated like that. 

But there was no way he was going to get involved this time, even though it was in his nature to intervene when he thought reason and a calming influence was called for. This time he needed to keep his head down for simple self-preservation, because he figured he’d be no use to anybody if he was accosted by the recruiters. 

With a resigned sigh, he continued on his way to Hargrove Hall, his mind already occupied with his plans for the day’s tasks. He fully intended to stay out of sight in his office in between his teaching duties, as he had promised Chaz the previous day, so was completely unprepared for what happened next. 

As he approached his small office / storeroom, his steps slowed as he registered the uniformed officer standing outside the door, along with a very upset looking Janice, one of the Anthropology Department secretaries. As soon as she saw him, she hurried to meet him, her eyes suspiciously shiny as she murmured anxiously, “I’m so sorry, Blair! I had hoped to give you a heads up before you got here, but this…this _person_ said he had to speak to you urgently! But I’ve called Eli, and he said he’s coming right away, OK? He sounded very angry, Sweetie.” 

Blair offered her a somewhat forced grin, trying as usual to put her mind at rest even though his own anxiety levels were rising rapidly. “I’m sure it’ll be OK, Janice. And thanks for calling Eli. I’m sure we can get this sorted really quickly!” 

However, he wasn’t anything like reassured when the officer stepped up to him and addressed him formally. 

“Mr Sandburg. Lieutenant Blakeway at your service, sir. I have orders to give you this, sir. I’m sure you’ll find it is self-explanatory,” and he handed Blair an envelope. 

Blair grasped it gingerly as if it were a poisonous snake, his generous lips thinning as he grimaced at the touch. “Uh, I’m going to open it in my office,” he muttered, wanting to delay everything until Eli arrived. This looked bad, and he needed all the backup he could get. 

Unlocking the door, he stepped inside, unsurprised when the officer immediately followed him in. He had no intention of offering the man a seat, however, although he smiled again at Janice when she entered also. He dithered for another few minutes, until Dr Stoddard arrived, bustling into the cramped space like a small, and very irate whirlwind. 

“What’s all this then, my boy? Are you all right? What’s that you have there,” he demanded, scarcely drawing breath. 

“Uh, hi Eli,” Blair replied nervously. “Um, I’m just about to find out,” and he drew the letter from the envelope, his face paling dramatically as he absorbed the contents. 

“Uh, it’s my call-up papers,” he choked out. “I’ve been drafted, Eli! But that can’t be,” he added angrily, addressing the imperturbable officer. “I signed the Declination Statement years ago! Look, there’s my copy!” and he pointed to the framed certificate on his wall. 

“I’m sorry, sir, but under certain circumstances, the military can override your objections, Mr Sandburg. You have a very strong guide rating, sir, and you are needed. Now, if you’ll come with me?” 

“Oh, I think not, young man!” Eli answered first. “We’ll all go and see what Chancellor Edwards has to say about this outrage! There’s no way you people are taking my good friend and Teaching Assistant without a fight!” 

Nodding briskly, he took Blair’s arm and ushered the young man out of the room. 

“It’s OK, Blair,” Janice called after them. “I’ll make sure everything’s safely locked up for you!” 

But Blair barely had time to offer her a grateful smile before he was hurried along the corridor, the officer marching calmly behind them as they made their way over to the Chancellor’s office. 

However, much as he appreciated Eli’s support and determination on his behalf, Blair had a sinking feeling that no good would come of his mentor’s intervention. For some reason, Marie Edwards couldn’t stand Blair, considering the young man to be a thorn in her side, even if he was a well-liked and productive asset to the Anthropology Department. His heart felt heavy as they entered Edwards’ outer office, to demand entry of her secretary. 

The young woman in question frowned at the professor’s peremptory request. She knew and liked Blair, even if her boss did not, and she guessed that Marie Edwards wasn’t going to be best pleased at this unexpected disturbance. However, when she called through to the inner office, she was surprised at Edwards’ easy acceptance. This didn’t bode well, and she knew it. 

“You may go in, Dr Stoddard, Blair,” she murmured politely. “You also, sir,” she added to the officer, although noticeably more coolly, and her worried gaze followed them as they entered her boss’ inner sanctum. 

As soon as they entered Edwards’ opulent office, one look at her self-satisfied, almost predatory smirk told Blair all he needed to know. She was going to throw him to the wolves, whether Eli liked it or not, and Blair knew it. And he was so right. 

“Ah, Dr Stoddard. Eli,” she purred. “How good to see you. I suspect you are here about young Mr Sandburg’s call up, are you not? I understand from the Lieutenant’s Commanding Officer that our Blair has an exceptionally high guide rating, and will do his country great service as guide to a military sentinel. I’m sure you must be proud of him, as indeed, are we all!” 

Almost speechless with indignation and anger, Eli spluttered for a second before answering her. “You cannot be serious, Chancellor! Blair Sandburg signed the Declination Statement as soon as he entered the University, as you well know! Not only is he an asset to our institution and a gifted teacher, but he is an important member of my staff and my very good friend! This is unconscionable!” 

However, senior tenured professor or no, Marie Edwards knew that she had the final say, not Eli Stoddard, and she was going to make the most of it. 

Assuming an entirely _faux_ sympathy, she replied, “I’m sorry, Eli. I do understand, believe me, but it is not my place to second guess the United States military. If they need Blair’s gift for the good of our country, then we cannot stand in their way. 

“Now, if you don’t mind, I have an important meeting to attend. So good to see you, Eli. And good luck in your new career, Mr Sandburg,” she added sweetly, and with that she rose to her feet to see them all out, job done.  


\------------------------  


Once again in the outer office, Blair tried vainly to shake himself out of the state of shock Edwards’ betrayal had sent him into, even though he knew he should have expected nothing less from her. The ever-optimistic part of his nature had hoped that even now there must be some mistake, but alas, not so. Aware of Eli’s comforting arm wrapped around his shoulders, even as Lieutenant Blakeway looked on with studied indifference, he sighed deeply, working hard at not breaking down into tears of hurt and bitter disappointment. “So, I guess that’s it then,” he murmured, trying for stoicism. Then, making eye contact with Blakeway, he said more strongly, “OK, then. What now? How long do I have to pack and sort out my affairs?” 

And was completely and utterly floored when Blakeway replied calmly, “Not necessary, Mr Sandburg. Everything will be done for you. All you need is to pack a small bag of personal necessities and then you can ride with us in the unit as we return to Ft Findlayson later tonight.” 

Now Eli was almost beside himself on Blair’s account. “You can’t mean that, Lieutenant! No one should be torn away from their very life and career so arbitrarily! It isn’t decent!” 

This time the officer’s eyes narrowed, although he still remained icily polite. “Maybe not, sir, but there is always a possibility that draftees might try to abscond and avoid their duty, sir. We have to take that into consideration. It’s normal practice, sir.” 

Suddenly, Blair had had enough. He truly appreciated Eli’s affront and concern on his behalf, but this arguing was getting him nowhere. Reaching up to squeeze his mentor’s arm gratefully, he said, “It’s OK, Eli. I’ll go and do as I’m told. I don’t want you or anyone else getting into trouble on my account, man, even though I’m more grateful than I can say for your support. But if you could see your way to seeing my office cleared and my stuff safely stored, I’d be in your debt. And perhaps one day I might be released to take up my life again, huh?” he added, with a sad grin. 

Eli turned to face him, placing his hands on Blair’s shoulders as he tried to offer comfort. “Of course I shall, my boy! Janice and I’ll make sure all your books and papers are collected, and your belongings stored, both from your office and your apartment. And I assure you, we’ll never stop fighting for your return, dear boy. This outrage must not be allowed to stand!” 

Blair nodded sadly, and then allowed himself to be taken into the older man’s embrace for a final hug. 

And life as he knew it came to an end.  


\--------------------  


**Early next morning, Ft Findlayson:**  


Clutching his small duffel, Blair climbed down from the recruiting unit’s RV and gazed around him, feeling thoroughly upset and disorientated. The hustle and bustle of a large, military establishment carried on around him, and he felt like a fish out of water. How he would ever survive in this environment he didn’t know, but all he could do was try. There really was no other option. 

He nearly jumped out of his skin when a booming voice from behind him barked, “Guide! About turn!” Spinning around, he found himself face to chest with a man-mountain, who was gripping a swagger stick under one arm as he glared down at Blair. 

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph!” the man growled. “I thought you were a girlie with all that hair. That’s got to go, and the sooner the better!” 

“Uh, hello, Sergeant,” Blair replied somewhat cautiously. “Uh, the name’s Blair Sandburg, and I don’t want to cut my hair. I’m a guide--” 

Leaning down until he was nose to nose with the smaller man, the big NCO snarled, “I _know_ what you are, you worthless piece of shit! You’re a pitiful excuse for a rookie guide recruit, and a conscripted one at that! You’ll do as you’re told, and you’ll learn not to answer back, got it?” 

When Blair opened his mouth to protest, the swagger cane whipped out and around to crack across his shoulders, and he gasped in pain, glancing around to see if anyone had witnessed the assault. But if they had, they were saying nothing, so he met the man’s furious gaze again, swallowing hard. 

“That’s completely unnecessary,” he began, only for the man to repeat the action even harder. 

“Shut your mouth, soldier! When I say jump, you jump. And if I say you get your hair cut, you get it cut! So, listen up! My name is Sergeant Murphy, and I have the misfortune of being your instructor while you’re doing your basic training. So if I say ‘jump’, you ask ‘How high?’ You _will_ learn to obey my orders without question, or you’re in for a world of pain, girlie! 

“Now, follow me. At the double!” 

And Blair was too stunned to do anything but obey.  


\----------------------------  


The next twenty four hours passed in a haze of uncertainty and discomfort for the bewildered young guide. Despite his objections, his long locks were shorn in a military buzz cut, and he was issued with a uniform. He was assigned a cot in the trainee guides’ barracks, all the while fighting to be heard and to hold on to his sense of self, but it was a losing battle. All he earned for himself was a few more swipes with the swagger stick, and a lot of cruel and demeaning remarks, and he was sadly aware that this was to be his life for the immediate future. 

And it could only get worse once he was assigned to a sentinel. He was nearly in despair. 

He learned that he was one of a group of twenty guide recruits in this intake, all of which apart from him were volunteers. From their remarks, he understood that Ft Findlayson’s reputation was such that recruits from as far afield as Delaware and Chicago vied for placement on its training programmes, so there was little support or sympathy for Blair to be found amongst his fellow trainees; especially when they found out just how high his rating actually was. Although he had never had a problem with those who chose a military life, apparently most of his ‘comrades’ chose to side with Murphy and Platoon Sergeant Andover when it came to scorning the unwilling conscript. Then again, he did understand that a lot of their attitude was probably down to self-preservation, and he couldn’t really blame them for that. As long as Murphy was beating up on Blair, he was leaving them alone. 

But it was so hard, and he felt so alone. And since the basic training programme was intended to take several weeks, he did begin to wonder how – or even if – he would survive. 

It was on the third day of his ‘training’ that he found out to his cost just how much he was despised by the drill sergeant. Amongst the several unofficial but accepted practices carried on in the camp, apparently there was an unspoken tradition whereby the brutish Murphy chose a candidate from whom he expected to obtain sexual satisfaction, and Blair was destined to be it this time around. After a tough PT session, where he was forced to do a significantly greater number of press-ups than his fellow trainees, Murphy ordered the exhausted young man to accompany him to his quarters. By this time, Blair had already learned the hard way not to question his commands, so he did as he was told. 

And as soon as the door was closed and locked behind him, he was shocked to his core when Murphy pushed him roughly down to his knees. 

“OK, now, girlie. It’s time to take care of your Daddy Murphy!” he sneered, the lascivious expression on his coarse features unmistakeable. 

Leaping to his feet, Blair shook his head vigorously. “No way, man! That’s too much! I’m not doing it, whatever you say!” 

Murphy’s eyes glinted with rage as he grabbed the smaller man, subduing him easily despite his frantic struggles. “If you want it rough, then that’s fine with me, girlie!” he growled, shaking Blair until the young man thought his teeth actually rattled. “Now, strip! And hurry up about it. Unless you want me to get really angry!” 

Seeing no means of escape, Blair began to do as he was told, shaking in fear and indignation. Once he was naked, Murphy pushed him to lean over his cot, and that was when Blair really panicked. It was one thing to be forced to give the man a blow job, but he truly believed he was about to be raped. His fear knew no bounds when he saw Murphy pull a hot poker from where it had been heating up on Murphy’s stove. 

“See this, girlie?” Murphy hissed as he waved the iron in front of Blair’s horrified eyes. “This is what you’ll get if you don’t keep me happy, _girlie!_ So, what’s it to be? And don’t ever think of betraying me, or you’ll get worse than this!” and he pressed the poker against Blair’s buttocks. It was only for a second, but the pain was excruciating, and Blair screamed aloud. 

And after that there was no fight left in him, so with tears of pain and shame streaming down his face, he did what Murphy wanted and sucked him off. And kept doing it as often as the sergeant ordered him to, for fear of even worse reprisals. 

The only good thing, Blair supposed, was that the man never did actually want to fuck him, so he learned to be grateful for small mercies.  


\---------------------------  


Coming back to the present, and lying in Jim’s arms, Blair fought his way determinedly out of his bitter memories. It did no good reliving his abuse, he told himself firmly. His immediate future lay with Ellison now, and was uncertain enough without beating himself up with past fears. 

And just maybe he could trust his sentinel to protect him from Murphy’s revenge.  



	4. Trial and Error?

**Chapter 4: Trial and Error?**   


Some while later, Jim woke up, feeling more physically relaxed and yet mentally energised than he had felt in many a day. He knew that it was down to the warm bundle of guide who was presently deeply asleep in his arms, and as he lay there, he allowed himself to ponder on his new circumstances for a while longer. As he was now officially on bonding leave, he wasn’t so constricted by his normal duties, and since it appeared that Sandburg was benefitting from the extra rest, Jim was prepared to give him more time. And while Jim’s senses were purring along nicely in the young man’s proximity, Jim knew that there would be plenty of discussion and changes to be made on both their accounts now the working bond was set. 

And one of the first changes he intended to make as a matter of urgency was to get Sandburg assigned to his personal protection. It would mean applying for what were essentially married quarters, because his present ones, although comfortable enough, were definitely not big enough for two. And that might pose a problem, because such quarters were normally reserved for actual married couples, or fully bonded sentinel and guide pairs, who were to all intents and purposes as married as they could possibly be. It was yet to be seen if Jim could persuade Colonel Masefield to allow Sandburg to move in with Jim merely on the assumption that the full bond was imminent. But he intended to do his best, because there was no way he wanted his true Guide – because that was what he considered Sandburg to be now – to remain in the guide barracks where Murphy could have access to him for a moment longer. 

Because that was the next thing he needed to do. Report the sergeant for his reprehensible treatment of Sandburg, and the gods only knew how many other poor souls who had suffered at his hands over the years. He understood that his new guide was terrified of Murphy’s retribution if he were to press charges, so Jim needed to know that he had the young man safe in his territory before they even considered it. 

But should Murphy try to get to him anyway, then the primal sentinel within Jim would have no mercy. No one touched His and lived to tell the tale. And the realisation was as empowering as it was shocking, causing Jim to smile ferociously as he contemplated this new possessiveness. Although fiercely protective of and loyal to his men, he had never ever felt quite like this towards another individual. Who knew? 

Just then, his senses picked up the slight changes in the guide’s respiration and heart rate which presaged his gradual awakening, so Jim stayed still, not wanting to startle the young man unnecessarily. 

As for Blair, his return to full consciousness was far less traumatic than Jim might have expected, given the circumstances. Before his mind supplied the reason for his present situation, his body fully appreciated the feeling of comfort and security he was experiencing from being wrapped in a warm but gentle embrace. And when he did remember where he was, he surprised himself by not immediately panicking. The sentinel was holding him tenderly, apparently happy to just prolong the moment of mutual peace and calm for a while, and Blair was in no hurry to move. They would have to face reality soon enough. 

However, the moment was shattered by nothing more sinister than Blair’s protesting bladder as the call of nature demanded his attention. And of course, the sentinel was immediately aware of his predicament, and released the young man with a knowing chuckle. 

“I think you’d better take care of that, Chief,” he murmured, allowing Blair to sit up. “If you want to grab a quick shower while you’re at it, feel free, OK? I’m going to make a fresh pot of coffee.” 

Blair smiled shyly at him. “Uh, thank you, Captain Ellison. I’ll do that if I may,” and he quickly picked up his discarded uniform and hurried to the small bathroom, taking care of business with a sigh of pure relief. Perhaps things were looking up after all. But he wasn’t going to get his hopes up too high. He couldn’t afford to let his guard down until he was sure where he stood in the sentinel’s eyes.  


\---------------------------  


Shortly afterwards, a freshly showered and shaved Blair sat at Jim’s small table, nursing a mug of good coffee. His taste buds really appreciated the treat, as the muck he had had to endure in the barracks and mess hall was pretty rank in comparison. Ellison was taking his own shower, so for the moment Blair was left alone with his thoughts. And they were disconcerting to say the least. 

When the older man had unselfconsciously stripped off before entering the bathroom, Blair was totally awestruck as the man’s magnificent physique was revealed in all its glory. He was even more impressive than Blair had imagined, and he was once again struck with a sense of his own inadequacy even as he experienced a surge of arousal. The arousal he had been too terrified to feel during their first imprinting. 

Goddess, but he wished now that they had indeed met under other circumstances, because he surely wouldn’t have turned down the chance of sex with such a god. _Yeah, as if he’d look at you!_ a snide little inner voice scoffed. _He’s only contemplating sex with you now because of what you can do for him! Get over yourself, Sandburg!_

And that brought him back down to earth with a thump. God of a man or no, Blair still didn’t want the full bond, but it was sure as hell going to be difficult fighting his own urges. Well, damn. 

Little did he know that Jim’s thoughts were very different than what he might have imagined. 

Completely comfortable with his body, Jim had indeed stripped off deliberately in the young guide’s presence, simply because he wanted to check out Sandburg’s reactions. Although not unduly vain, Jim knew his body was in good shape, so if the guide was that way inclined at all, he wanted to know it, because it would hopefully make Jim’s seduction of him easier. 

And yes, there it was. An unmistakable burst of pheromones. Jim couldn’t quite keep the slightly smug smile off his face as he stepped under the hot spray. The guide was definitely interested, which was excellent news. Now to work on it and make the beautiful young man his and his alone. And how amazing a concept was that?  


\----------------------------  


Showered and changed, Jim helped himself to his own mug of coffee and sat down opposite Blair. They had plenty to discuss, so there was no point in putting it off. As Blair met his gaze with some nervousness, he offered the young man a friendly grin as he began. 

“So, Chief, here we are. The working bond’s set, and we need to find out how best to utilise it. I know that you’ll have received some basic training since you’ve been here, but exactly how much do you know about the practical side of guiding? How much additional training are you going to need?” 

Blair ducked his head for a moment, then looked up to meet Jim’s quizzical gaze again, his own expression conveying honesty and determination as well as anxiety. 

“Uh, I admit that I have little or no practical guiding experience in the field, sir, because as you already know I had no intention of signing up on the Guide Availability Database or volunteering for military service. But theoretically speaking, I do know a lot. Probably more than most people here, because it was my chosen study subject. Sentinel Studies, that is. 

“You see, I was recruited from Rainier University in Cascade, where I was a grad student and Teaching Assistant. I had already received my Master’s Degree on the subject of indigenous tribal sentinels, and I was about to start my doctoral dissertation on the role of the Guide. Mainly because although there is a lot of interest in and material written about sentinels, in general the guide’s role has generated little interest, and I thought it was time to redress the balance. I suppose that the fact that I have the guide gene might have stimulated that desire, but as I said, I wanted to teach, not to commit myself to only one person. However amazing that person might be. 

“I’m sorry, sir. But that’s how it is,” and he ducked his head again, certain that he’d offended the captain with his honesty, and fearful of the repercussions. 

However, when he raised his eyes again, it was to see a look of understanding and thoughtfulness on Ellison’s patrician features. The sentinel studied him shrewdly for a moment before nodding his acceptance. 

“It’s OK, Chief, I’m not mad at you, if that’s what’s worrying you. Sure, I would have preferred a less complicated situation, but it is what it is, and we’ll have to make the most of it. For your information, kiddo, I didn’t want a guide probably any more than you wanted to be one. I’ve managed pretty well up until now without one, but recently it’s become more and more difficult to control my senses. And when I zoned during our last operation I knew it was time, and the CO confirmed it. No Guide meant no active duty, end of story. And since I’m an alpha, I need a strong guide, and I’m afraid you’re it. Now, I don’t know whether the recruiters had me particularly in mind when they went after you, Chief, but if that’s the case, then I’m sorry. I never considered the consequences of guides being drafted against their wishes, or the life they would be forced to leave behind. But it seems to me that you’ve given up a hell of a lot, Chief. To have already been awarded a Master’s at what? Barely twenty years old? That’s pretty impressive, kiddo. When did you start at Rainier?” 

Blair smiled sadly. “I was fifteen, sir. I’d been travelling around a lot with my mom Naomi, and I decided I wanted to put down some roots. And study with my hero, Dr Eli Stoddard, the internationally famous anthropologist. Anyhow, I tested out high enough, and they offered me a place. And the rest is history, as they say,” and he snickered ruefully. “What I never took seriously though was the results of my routine medical when I learned about my latent guide potential. It never occurred to me that I could be conscripted. More fool me, huh?” 

Jim’s expression was grim as he nodded again. “I’m sorry, Chief. I guess it’s not something that crops up that often, and only in certain cases, so the general public won’t know about the military’s right to draft particular individuals. I’m sorry that you got caught up, but the fact remains that I need you. And I dare to suggest that I think someone with your rating will probably find that you’ll instinctively know how to apply all that theory. 

“But that doesn’t mean to say that I intend to treat you like a chattel, Chief. I’m not the most easy-going person in the world for sure, and my team will tell you I’m short-tempered and demanding, but if you do our best by me, I’ll do what I can to ameliorate your position, OK? I don’t want you to suffer unnecessarily.” 

He was rewarded by a beautiful, shy smile which lit up Sandburg’s youthful face for a moment. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate your concern for me, truly. And I promise to reciprocate in kind, sir. I have no idea what use I’ll be to you in the field, but I’ll do my best, sir.” 

“That’s all I can ask for now, Chief,” Jim replied. “I hope that eventually you’ll trust me enough to bond fully with me, but for now, we understand each other. 

“However, there’s something we have to face up to first, and I think you know what that is, don’t you?” and he wasn’t surprised when Blair’s face fell, and the haunted and frightened look returned to his eyes. This was going to be hard, but it had to be done.  


\----------------------------  


**Shortly afterwards, Colonel Masefield’s Office:**  


Blair stood at attention before the Commanding Officer’s desk, feeling lower than pond scum and trying vainly to hide his misery and shame. Despite his sentinel’s reassuring presence and support, he knew that he was wasting his time here, and that he had failed miserably in convincing Colonel Masefield that there was any case to answer. The colonel’s set features betrayed no emotion apart from a hint of irritation, but his eyes were hard as they studied the young guide’s face carefully. 

If Blair could have known it, the senior officer did actually have some sympathy for this unwilling recruit, but to his way of thinking he had far more important issues to take care of than the precious sensibilities of one unhappy rookie guide, however pretty he was. Masefield had known Sergeant Murphy for years now, ever since he took command of Fort Findlayson, and although he had heard rumours before about the man’s tough training regimes, he hadn’t paid any attention to the whispered hints pertaining to less savoury aspects of the man’s character. This was the first time anyone had come forward with an actual accusation, and frankly, Murphy’s position in the training camp’s hierarchy was too important to Masefield for him to take it seriously until or unless he had to. 

But then again, it was his bad luck that it just had to involve Captain Ellison’s new Guide, so much as he would have liked to sweep the whole sorry episode under the carpet with vague reassurances of following it up, it wasn’t going to be quite as easy as that. Ellison was, quite simply, the best team leader and covert operative that Ft Findlayson had to offer, and the last thing Masefield needed was to alienate his alpha sentinel. So he did what he could to offer an acceptable compromise – and consolation prize - whilst implying that he would treat the matter with all seriousness. 

Turning from studying the young guide’s unhappy, red-cheeked and shame-faced expression, Masefield met Ellison’s frowning, set gaze. 

“Well, Captain Ellison, I have to say that I’m disappointed to hear your guide’s allegations. I realise that, as a sentinel, you will undoubtedly have been able to deduce that he believes what he says, whether or not it is factually correct. Now, don’t interrupt, Captain!” he snapped, holding up a hand in rebuke as Ellison opened his mouth to do just that. “Perhaps Guide Sandburg misread the situation, or allowed his resentment over his conscription to colour his opinion. Is that not possible, son?” he added, addressing Blair directly again. 

Flustered, Blair shook his head. “N…no, sir! I…I mean, yes, I admit I resent my presence here, but that’s not it, sir. Sgt Murphy did force me to…to satisfy him, sir. A…and he hurt me, too.” 

Unable to hold his tongue any longer, Jim butted in, reaching out to grip Blair’s shoulder supportively. “Guide Sandburg is telling the truth, sir! And even if he might have been unconsciously embellishing it, he wasn’t embellishing his injuries, sir. Those by themselves should be enough to see Murphy on a charge!” 

Masefield’s lips thinned as he frowned angrily. “That’s enough, Captain! Point taken. So, this is what I intend, all right? I shall look into this whole matter, but I shall need time to get more information before I call Sgt Murphy up before a Board of Enquiry. This is too serious an allegation to act upon without corroborating evidence from other sources, and that might prove to be hard to find. But it will be done, and when it is, Sgt Murphy will be given the opportunity to produce character witnesses to speak in his defence. This enquiry will go by the book, Captain. There will be no witch hunts or retaliatory actions before the verdict is in, whatever it might be. And afterwards, if necessary, Murphy will be dealt with as per military law, _not_ sentinel justice, you hear me? 

“But in the meantime,” he continued, his tone and expression more conciliatory, “I’m assigning you your new quarters as requested as from today, Captain. Get your guide settled in where you can keep an eye on him, and spend the rest of your bonding leave productively. I’m sure that between you you will reach a satisfactory understanding, and that by the end of that time, Guide Sandburg will be reconciled to his new role. 

“Dismissed, gentlemen,” and he watched intently as the two men snapped to attention and saluted him crisply before turning to leave, Ellison’s hand automatically moving to rest possessively at the small of young Sandburg’s back. 

This wasn’t going to blow over any time soon, and he knew it.  



	5. Team Building

****

**Chapter 5: Team Building:**  


As Jim and Blair marched back towards Jim’s quarters, Blair couldn’t help but peer nervously up at his sentinel. He didn’t need to be empathic to see the clenched jaw and muscles jumping in the big man’s cheek, or feel the almost palpable anger rolling off the tightly-strung body. And he was jittery enough to worry that he personally was the source of all that barely-restrained tension, and couldn’t help but wonder what it might mean for him. However, after a few minutes, Jim sighed deeply and glanced down at his new guide, a rueful half-grin lifting his lips. 

“You OK there, Chief?” he asked, noting the anxious expression and the tang of distress marring his partner’s otherwise pleasant scent. “Look, I know that was hardly a bundle of fun for you, kiddo, but it had to be done, OK?” 

“Ah, yes, I do understand, sir,” Blair replied a little timidly. “But I’m so sorry to trouble you with all this stuff. Cause all this mess. I didn’t intend to…” and he trailed off uncertainly, only to be taken by surprise when Jim stopped in his tracks and turned the smaller man to face him. 

“Look, kiddo, I’m not mad at you, all right? I mean, yes, I’m furious, but _for_ you, not _with_ you. I can’t believe that animal has gotten away with such behaviour for god knows how long, but this time he’s gone too far. Whether he likes it or not, Colonel Masefield’s going to have to do something about it, and soon, whatever he said. This time Murphy got it completely wrong. Not only did he leave physical evidence this time from his abuse, but he chose someone stronger than he expected for his latest victim. Someone, moreover, who was also assigned to me! No way is he getting away with this, Chief. No way!” 

Clapping Blair’s shoulder in a friendly and comforting gesture, he set off again and they went on their way, the relief apparent in the smaller man’s posture and expression.  


\---------------------  


Little did they know it, but Murphy was coming to very similar conclusions right then, having already received a summons from the colonel’s office. And as he made his way over to the camp’s HQ block, his angry thoughts tumbled around in his brain, trying to come up with some means of mitigating a situation that might well prove to be the end of his career. 

Oh, he knew he’d made a big mistake this time, and cursed his own overreaction, but the only regret he had was that he’d been found out. He had no regrets whatsoever about what he had done to Sandburg, or to all his past victims. But this time he had gone too far, and it was all Sandburg’s fault. Normally, he was much more careful about how he selected his potential victims. He usually chose draftees – loners who already had a strike against them in the eyes of the other volunteer guides. Also, he generally tended to choose either young women, or smaller, weaker men who he could usually intimidate into submission using less physical abuse, such that there was nothing to show should they find the guts to report him anyway. And since it would his word against theirs, he was smugly certain that his long service record and good reputation would always garner him the benefit of the doubt, especially as they were nearly always assigned elsewhere once their basic training was finished. 

But Sandburg had been different. Small in stature and almost too pretty to be sure, but full of character and promising so much more in terms of a satisfying sexual conquest. Murphy couldn’t believe how strong his attraction had been as soon as he had set eyes on the young recruit. It was more than just lust for a beautiful young body, because he’d never been particular about the sex of his victims. In his opinion, young women were just easier to control anyhow when he wasn’t in the mood to try too hard. But he’d felt a real challenge this time. A desire to break the bright and stunningly attractive young man’s spirit and bend it to his will. And because of that he’d made the huge mistake of leaving physical evidence of his abuse. Bruising from his cane would fade in due course, even from multiple blows, and could always be explained away if necessary as the results of unaccustomed physical activity. But he couldn’t believe he’d been so stupid as to use a poker to burn Sandburg’s flesh. And then it was just his bad luck that the guide had been assigned within the garrison, and to Captain Ellison and his team at that. Unless there was some way he could get his hands on the kid and shut him up, he was done for, and he knew it. 

And it was all Sandburg’s fault! 

Frowning angrily, he marched into the administration building and headed directly to Colonel Masefield’s office. This was going to be bad, but there was no point in delaying the confrontation. He wasn’t lacking in courage, even if it was the bull-headed, stubborn kind, and he needed to know how long he’d got to try and wriggle his way out of this unholy mess.  


\-----------------------  


As it happened, Jim and Blair were also heading in that general direction, Jim having decided that they might as well go to the guide barracks to collect Blair’s few possessions in preparation for relocating to their new quarters. No way would he have allowed his guide to go there unaccompanied, just in case he should fall foul of Murphy, so he had stayed in plain sight as Blair had quickly stuffed his duffel and hurried out, glad to be away from the bleak dormitory and its less than sympathetic inmates. 

“OK, Chief? Let’s head back to my quarters for now, and I’ll find out just where we’re going to be billeted. A bit more space’ll be good, eh?” 

As Blair nodded eagerly, as always wanting to please his sentinel, Jim suddenly stiffened and slowed his stride. 

“Well, lookee there!” he muttered almost to himself, glaring in the direction of the HQ block. “If it isn’t the bastard himself. I’ll bet he’s been summoned to the Colonel’s office. You want to try putting some of that guiding theory into practice?” he said, fixing Blair with a wicked grin as he tapped his ear suggestively. 

“Oh! Um, yes, sir! I can do that!” Blair replied, knowing just what the sentinel meant. Jim wanted to listen in to the interview, and he couldn’t help but feel curious himself. It would be good to know what to expect after all. 

Crossing the parade ground, they stopped again beside the mess hall, which was far enough away from the HQ building as not to attract undue attention. Then again, as a specialist Sentinel and Guide training centre, such practical demonstrations were usually taken for granted among the camp’s personnel, but there was no need to advertise their intentions unnecessarily in this situation. 

As Jim stood relaxed, Blair placed one of the sentinel’s hands over his own heart so that Jim could feel the steady beating, while gently rubbing a powerful bicep, thus grounding the bigger man with his touch. Offering Blair a grateful grin, Jim cocked his head in an unconscious listening pose, intensely satisfied to find that he could extend his hearing with ease to overhear Murphy’s interview clearly. 

And what he heard was both gratifying and infuriating.  


\----------------------------  


**Colonel Masefield’s office:**  


Masefield was not a happy man. Despite what he had told Captain Ellison, he knew he was going to have to act decisively, and immediately, because Sgt Murphy’s stupidity had left him with no other choice. The enquiry would indeed go by the book, but the presence of unequivocal physical evidence in the form of Guide Sandburg’s scars couldn’t be overlooked even if alleged verbal abuse and deliberate intimidation could be disputed. At least the man had only demanded fellatio, according to Sandburg, so there was no need for an intimate medical rectal examination which, although theoretically providing yet more damning evidence of gross misconduct on Murphy’s part, would undoubtedly have been even more traumatic for the young man. And Masefield did sympathise with him, even if reluctantly so. It wasn’t the guide’s fault after all that he’d been instrumental in providing the colonel with a major disciplinary headache. 

But he was still left with the unpleasant task of interviewing Murphy, and informing him of Masefield’s decision. And there was also the question of how much – or how little – Platoon Sergeant Andover knew about his immediate subordinate’s unsavoury long-standing proclivities. It seemed unlikely that he could have been completely in the dark, but whether or no he would admit to such knowledge was yet to be seen. Masefield rather cynically assumed that in order to protect his own career and reputation, Andover would most likely be prepared to hang Murphy out to dry. Either way, he knew that he would never be able to fully trust the man again, and might even be prepared to consider a transfer to another unit, or even out of Findlayson altogether. 

Just then, a sharp knock on his door announced the arrival of Sgt Murphy, and the moment of truth was upon him. 

As Murphy stood rigidly to attention before his CO’s desk, his ever-present swagger cane clutched beneath his arm, he looked every inch the competent and experienced NCO he still was, despite the current situation. For the most part, he had conducted himself with integrity and courage on the battlefield, earning his stripes and his decorations honestly. But somewhere along the way his darker nature had been allowed to surface, and his arrogance had allowed it to feed and grow, believing himself immune from accusations since his reputation was there to protect him. And that overweening arrogance would now prove to be his downfall, thanks to his own unbridled lust and the courage of one young guide. 

“Sgt Murphy,” Masefield began. “I’m sure you realise why you have been summoned here today. Serious allegations have been made against you by G I Guide Sandburg, backed up by his new sentinel, Captain Ellison. Guide Sandburg alleges that you forced him to perform fellatio on you on numerous occasions during his basic training, and that you threatened him both verbally and with physical punishment. 

“Do you have anything to say in your defence, man? For God’s sake, Murphy, you left the guide with scars! I’ve seen them for myself!” 

Murphy stiffened even more as he drew himself up to his full, impressive height. Much as he wanted to, there was no point in denying it. He could only hope that his years of otherwise exemplary conduct would help mitigate his likely punishment, but he wasn’t going to grovel. Never that. And his fury towards the hapless Sandburg knew no bounds. 

“No sir,” he began, his voice and gaze steady and unapologetic. “I have nothing to say, other than that I am sorry for causing trouble for you, sir. I realise that I have acted in a manner unbecoming to my rank, and for that I apologise. I cannot explain why I did what I did to Guide Sandburg, sir, other than to say that his attitude was constantly uncooperative and disruptive during his training, and that he needed considerably more discipline than most trainee guides I have ever dealt with, even other conscripts.” 

Masefield stared at him, his gaze speculative as he formulated his response. “Do you deny the allegation that you have been victimising trainees for several years now in order to satisfy your sexual needs? Even though these allegations haven’t been made until now?” 

Murphy looked mulish for a moment, but discipline won out, and he answered stiffly, if unsatisfactorily. “I have nothing more to say on that count, sir. I neither admit nor deny the charge against me, but would point out that I have many years of good conduct behind me, sir. If it comes to a Board of Enquiry, I am certain that there will be those who can vouch for me, sir.” 

Masefield held his gaze a moment longer, then sighed deeply. “You’re a fool, Sergeant. You went too far, and you know it. Under no circumstances can I condone your behaviour, but I’m not naïve. I am well aware that the service I love has flaws, and that only too often cases of abuse slip through the net, but in this instance I cannot let it go. Despite your record here, you have dishonoured this camp’s reputation by your reprehensible conduct, so I have no alternative but to relieve you of your duties forthwith. You will remain confined to barracks until such time as a Board of Enquiry can be convened. 

“You will, of course, be allowed legal representation. Whatever my personal opinion, you will receive a fair hearing. But I make no promises either way. You have disappointed me and shamed this service deeply, and I think it is fair to say that whatever the eventual verdict is, whether or not you escape actual imprisonment, your career as a soldier is finished. 

“Dismissed!”  


\-----------------------------  


Over by the mess hall, Jim pulled back his hearing and grinned ferociously down into Blair’s upturned and inquisitive face. He repeated the contents of the interview with relish, squeezing his guide’s shoulder supportively. It appeared as if justice would be served after all, so they could both be satisfied with that. 

But Jim knew that he would still watch over his guide like a hawk until Murphy was actually either behind bars or off the premises. There was no way he would risk the man taking his revenge out on Blair. The guide was his; his to protect; and that was all there was to it.  


\-------------------------  


**Following day, in Captain Ellison and Guide Sandburg’s new quarters:**  


Jim emerged from the shower to see Blair pottering around the kitchenette, making a fresh pot of coffee. Despite his barely-awake morning face, the young man looked considerably better already than when Jim had first encountered him, and he guessed that there were several reasons for the improvement. For starters, the knowledge that Murphy was being confined to barracks before getting his much-deserved comeuppance must have relieved Sandburg greatly, but there was also the question of Jim’s own restraint in not pushing the young guide for the full bond yet. For sure, Jim dearly wished that it would happen soon, but he was prepared to allow the guide some time to relax a little more and come to terms with his new life, because it certainly wasn’t anything he’d wanted or expected, and Jim felt a fair amount of guilt about that. He wasn’t at all sure how long he was going to be able to hold back, but he was going to try, however hard it was. He found that he wanted Blair to trust him, and also become more than just a working partner. The small instances when what was obviously the young man’s real character peeked out from beneath his fear-induced reticence were titillating hints of what Jim could expect, and he wanted more. 

And he definitely wanted more of Blair’s body. 

The previous evening, once they had settled into their new accommodation, Jim had once again taken his guide to bed – there was only one after all – in order to imprint him again and make the most of his proximity. But once again he had remained clothed, or at least wore undershirt and shorts so that Sandburg wouldn’t panic. And he was gratified to find that it didn’t take Blair too long to relax this time, even though holding the warm young body in his arms was truly exasperating, and Jim had been forced to imagine all sorts of lust-quenching scenarios in order to control his unruly libido. And this morning he had made sure that he had gotten out of bed before Blair could become aware of the morning hard-on desperately trying to press up against the tempting butt pushed comfortably into Jim’s groin. Taking care of it in the shower had been quick and easy with thoughts of Blair’s slick body pressed up against him under the warm spray, and he truly hoped that it would be sooner rather than later before his wish came to pass. 

Today, however, they were going to have to plan how their bonding leave should progress in terms of introducing Blair to his new role within Jim’s team. And that wasn’t going to be as straight forward as one might think, as Jim realised only too well. 

The problem was that as a draftee, Sandburg was something of an oddity. Volunteer guides for the most part simply enlisted in their service of choice and rose through the ranks like any other recruit until such time as they were assigned to a sentinel, or not, as the case may be. Either way, it was a career choice the same as any regular enlisted serviceman or woman. 

However, in cases like Blair’s, where he had been conscripted against his will for the specific purpose of being paired with a compatible sentinel, it could be in more or less any capacity or unit, from Logistics to the Medical Corps, or any other combat variation in between. He therefore had no specific rank other than the catch-all ‘G I Guide’, and only minimal training of any sort. In terms of experience or expectations he was neither fish nor fowl, and learning to fit into an elite group of combat veterans such as Jim’s specialist covert ops team was going to be hard for him. But it was going to have to be done if Jim was to return to active duty anytime soon, and it was up to him to ensure that Sandburg had as much support and encouragement as possible under the circumstances. He supposed that a lot of people would consider it to be morally wrong to expose the young guide to unlooked-for dangers purely because TPTB demanded it, but Jim needed him if he was to continue to serve his country, so he determined to protect Sandburg to the best of his ability. 

And since there was no point in delaying the inevitable, Jim fully intended to introduce his guide to his team that very day, even though he guessed that the young man wasn’t going to enjoy the experience too much. 

“Morning, Chief!” he said brightly, grinning a little wickedly at the younger man’s still half comatose expression. “Coffee ready yet? I suspect you could do with a cup. Or three!” 

He was secretly thrilled at Blair’s automatic response, which was an indecipherable growl and snort of disdain, only to frown in disappointment as the younger man realised abruptly with whom he was communicating and assumed a faintly apologetic but otherwise neutral expression instead. _One day soon,_ Jim thought, _I want to experience the real Sandburg, warts and all. Because when that happens, I think I’m going to be in for a treat._

It was too soon for sure to imagine a truly loving relationship between a fully bonded sentinel and guide, but Jim could dream. And that in itself was a surprisingly radical change of heart for the confirmed loner that had been Jim Ellison. 

Meanwhile, time was a ’wasting, so Jim swallowed down his brief sadness and clapped the smaller man on the shoulder instead. “Your turn for the shower, Chief, and you might as well take a mug of coffee in with you. The caffeine’ll do you good, kiddo. Then I think we’ll go to the officer’s mess for breakfast, after which I want to introduce you to the team. And the sooner you get to meet them the better, I’m thinking. Then perhaps you’ll see that they’re not as frightening as you might imagine!” 

The faint whiff of anxiety he picked up told him that Blair was hardly reassured, but the young man offered him a strained smile anyway as he picked up his full mug and turned for the bathroom. 

“Yes, sir,” he replied quietly. “I won’t be long,” and he left Jim staring after him, wondering just what he had to do to get the guide to really trust him.  


\-------------------------  


Some short while later, Jim and Blair were walking across the open parade ground again, heading for the briefing room where Jim had ordered his team to assemble. Although Jim could easily pick up his companion’s elevated heart rate and the tang of anxiety that soured his scent, he had to admire the determined expression and upright posture Sandburg had adopted despite his discomfort. He was behaving like a real trouper, and Jim was proud of him. He knew that it had been a strain for the younger man to force down enough breakfast to satisfy his sentinel, and also to maintain an air of assumed nonchalance amidst what must have been an intimidating roomful of curious officers, all keen to see what their colleague’s new guide looked like. It hadn’t been particularly pleasant for Jim either, considering that he had had to forcibly repress the urge to get in the faces of more than a couple whose disparaging comments hadn’t been subtle enough to escape sentinel hearing. 

However, he was certain that it would get better in time once his comrades were used to Blair’s presence, and that would undoubtedly go for his team also. Once they had gotten past this first introduction, that was. 

As they entered the admin building together, where Jim’s office and the adjacent briefing room were located, Jim automatically placed a supportive hand at the small of Blair’s back, earning himself a grateful glance as the younger man preceded him. He could tell Blair was trying hard to keep his cool as the moment of truth approached, and surprised himself by the sudden urge he had to bundle the smaller man up and take him back to the safety of his new territory. He really was going to have to be aware of the primal sentinel within, and be prepared to keep him under control when necessary, because it certainly wouldn’t do for him to attack any of his team members for some perceived threat towards his new guide. There might be a time and a place for his primitive side to surface, but this wasn’t it, and the civilised and responsible officer in him knew it. 

Reaching the door of the briefing room, Jim pushed it open and urged Blair to step inside, maintaining the small contact between them as they moved to the head of the room. His men immediately jumped to their feet and sprang to attention, and as he turned to face them he returned their crisp salutes. Looking from one to the other in turn, and nodding his approval, Jim smiled briefly as he said, “At ease, gentlemen. You may be seated.” 

All four of them obeyed with alacrity, and Blair was studied intently, although Jim couldn’t discern any emotion other than interest in their gazes. He just hoped that the more empathic guide wasn’t picking up anything more disconcerting, and yet again regretted that they hadn’t yet bonded fully, because then he would be able to access Sandburg’s innermost feelings as the guide would be aware of his. 

As for Blair, he was doing his best to maintain his cool façade, even though internally he was busy fighting off a panic attack. Mentally repeating his favourite mantra of ‘I am calm, I am relaxed, I am at one with the universe’, he tried to look at least moderately intelligent as he prepared to absorb Jim’s introductions to each member in turn. Although very different in stature and appearance, to a man they looked battle-hardened and confident, and Blair felt his inadequacy factor increasing by the second. How in the name of the goddess was he going to be able to work alongside men like these? For sure he was going to be a major handicap, and perhaps even the instrument of their destruction if he failed in some way due to incompetence or sheer ignorance. It was wrong. So very wrong…. 

Suddenly he felt Jim’s hand gripping his shoulder again, and the firm grasp, plus the sentinel’s steady gaze settled him somewhat. He realised that Jim was aware of his incipient panic, and was offering tacit support in order to allow Blair to pull himself together before the other men realised that something was amiss. Taking a deep breath, he met Jim’s quizzical look with a surreptitious nod and brief glance of gratitude, and found himself once again able to concentrate. Perhaps he could get through this after all. 

“OK, gentlemen, let’s get this show on the road,” Jim addressed them with a small smile. “I want you to meet my new guide, G I Guide Blair Sandburg. He comes with the highest guide rating, and a Master’s Degree in Sentinel Studies despite his tender years, so he does know what he’s talking about. 

“On the other hand, he’ll be the first to admit that he has only had basic training, and will be looking to us all to get him ready for active service. But I’m stating here and now that I am more than satisfied that he is exactly what I, as your commanding officer, require as far as the sentinel factor is concerned, OK? You all know I’ve fought against having a guide in the field, but the fact is that I need one now if I’m to remain as your captain. And I am certain that Sandburg here will fit the bill in due course with the team’s help. 

“So, Blair, this is my second in command, Lieutenant Iain Sturgis,” and he turned to offer Blair a reassuring glance as the tall officer stepped forward, his hand held out in welcome. 

Blair looked up to meet the man’s gaze, and smiled a little shyly as he took the proffered hand. “Pleased to meet you, Lieutenant Sturgis,” he said, incidentally relieved that his voice sounded steady enough despite his inner butterflies. As the other man shook his hand firmly, he took the opportunity to study him. 

Sturgis was about the same height as Jim, maybe an inch or so taller, and had a similar build. However, his broad-featured face was open and his answering smile was frank and non-judgemental, although Blair was absolutely certain that the man was no fool. He couldn’t have been in his position, and Blair knew that Jim trusted him implicitly, and that was enough for him. 

Next he was introduced to Sergeant John Saltmarsh. Saltmarsh was only an inch or so taller than Blair, but built like a wrestler, with broad shoulders and muscular limbs. But the twinkle in his brown eyes left Blair in no doubt of his intelligence, and when he introduced himself candidly, Blair just had to laugh. 

“Hi, Guide Sandburg. Or can I call you Blair?” he said as he shook Blair’s hand in his outsize paw. “They call me Sgt Pepper. Wonder why?” he added with a disarming chuckle, jerking his head towards the other men, who joined in with his good-natured banter. 

“Aw, come on, man!” guffawed the third man, a handsome Hispanic. “Sergeant _Salt_ marsh! Sgt Pepper? ‘Lonely Hearts Club Band? Get it?” he snickered, nudging Blair amicably in the ribs. 

Now Blair’s grin was wide as his natural ebullience finally emerged. “Yeah, yeah!” he giggled. “The Beatles, right? ‘Magical Mystery Tour’? Man, that’s an oldie but goodie!” 

“You got that right, babe,” grinned the other man. “Corporal Jesus Ramirez, at your service, Blair. I’m the brains of the bunch!” 

“Huh! Don’t listen to him, Blair!” the fourth man growled, shouldering Ramirez aside good-naturedly. A tall, slender African American, his wide grin flashed as he continued, “That’d be me! Don’t let the rank fool you! Private 1st Class Marvin Danilo, explosives expert _extraordinaire!”_

By now Blair was grinning unrestrainedly, and Jim looked on in relief and great satisfaction as his team made the young guide feel at home. He was proud of them, and of Blair too. Perhaps this was going to work out just fine after all.  



	6. Ready for Action

**Chapter 6: Ready for Action:**  


Over the next few days, Blair threw himself wholeheartedly into his training, covering all aspects whether it be unarmed combat, firearms or the endurance and fitness programmes. It might not have been academia, but he was always going to embrace the opportunity to learn new skills and absorb new concepts, and found to his surprise that in general he was enjoying it. Certainly he made frequent mistakes, and his new team members were sometimes irritated with him, but since he doggedly tried and tried again he couldn’t fail to earn for himself a deal of admiration for his commitment. And because he was coming out of himself more and more, and revealing the cheerful, witty personality he had kept hidden, his popularity increased by leaps and bounds such that he soon had the role of unofficial team mascot bestowed upon him, much to his innocent delight. Not only that, but as he was by nature a caring and generous person, his willingness to offer even unsolicited help was also much appreciated. 

All in all, Jim couldn’t have been more proud of his young guide’s achievements in such a short space of time, and of his team for their good natured tolerance and patience. And since his own practicing with Blair was reaping very satisfactory results in the increased range and control of his senses, they could both admit with no false modesty that the practical side to their bonding leave was progressing far better than either of them might have expected given such an inauspicious start. 

Of course, Blair deliberately avoided thinking about the end result of this training, and what he would be expected to do with these new skills in a combat situation. He would face that obstacle when he came to it, and not before; his inherent optimism buoying him up in the meantime and focussing his attention on the matters in hand. 

The one aspect that frustrated Jim was that so far they were no closer to achieving the full bond. Certainly much of that was due to the fact that after a hard day’s training, Blair was inevitably exhausted and fit for nothing more than a shower, a quick reconnecting cuddle and an early night. And Jim wasn’t so self-centred that he was going to push himself on his guide – yet. But he was conscious of becoming antsier as the days passed, and trying to suppress his sexual desires was growing increasingly difficult, especially with the young man sleeping peacefully in his arms every night. Despite having recourse to his own right hand in the privacy of the shower, he was deeply concerned that one day he simply wouldn’t be able to help himself, and he prayed that when that day came, he wouldn’t ruin everything between them, and destroy Blair’s nascent trust in him and in their partnership before it had barely taken root.  


\---------------------------  


The final day of their official bonding leave was fast approaching, so Jim suggested to his team that they all enjoy an evening of relaxation off base at a local bar which was popular with the base’s personnel. He had no qualms about taking Blair with him, because by now he trusted the young man not to do anything rash like trying to abscond. And even if he did, he would hardly get very far in the company of Jim’s team, so they all agreed to meet there at 1900 hours the following night, which was a Friday. The bar would no doubt be busy with other off-duty servicemen and women as well as with the locals, but that was hardly a drawback to their enjoyment. Or so they thought. 

During the day, Blair had been almost bouncing with excitement, even though he figured that the other team members probably thought he was a little nuts despite their cheerful tolerance. The fact was that, as a gregarious young man, he had really missed the social life of Rainier, and the interaction with fellow teaching staff and students. The anthropologist in him thrived on contact with people of all persuasions, and although he had actually enjoyed this past couple of weeks with Jim and his team, the previous weeks of basic training had been truly hard on him. Not only had he had to suffer the unwanted drills and deliberately depersonalising discipline, but he had also had to bear with Murphy’s ill-treatment without noticeable backup from his fellow recruits, who had shunned him overtly for the sake of their own self-preservation. The chance of getting away from the base to visit something as mundane as a local bar took on the guise of a real treat, while his inner anthropologist looked forward to seeing how local patrons interacted with military personnel. He chuckled to himself as he imagined the paper he might have written on the subject, and refused to consider that he would never again be in a position to do so. 

As he daydreamed while cleaning up his old hiking boots in preparation for the momentous expedition, he was brought back to the present by Jim’s hand gripping his shoulder; the tall captain grinning down at him affectionately. 

“Hey, Junior, you nearly ready to head out? It’s only about a twenty minute drive, but I reckon the guys’ll be there already. You want to drive my jeep? After all, you won’t be drinking, will you?” and he chuckled wickedly as Blair cocked a mock-exasperated eyebrow at him. 

“I’m nearly legal!” he huffed indignantly, “And no one stopped me having a beer at the U! But it’s fine, man. I’m happy to drive, as long as you want to trust me. After all, you’ve never seen me behind the wheel yet!” 

“I’m prepared to risk it for the sake of a beer or two, kiddo. So, let’s get moving, OK?” and in companionable accord they left their quarters and headed over to where Jim’s old but beloved jeep was parked.  


\----------------------------  


Around half an hour or so later, Blair pulled up in the parking lot of the brightly lit bar, and gazed around him in unfeigned interest. The bar itself was on the outskirts of a small neighbouring town called Baker’s Ford after the pioneer who had discovered the best crossing place of the river that ran through it. It was very much a one-horse town, which even boasted a Main Street, but looked pretty and prosperous enough to Blair’s eyes. Of course, that prosperity probably owed much to the income from the military camp nearby, but there was nothing wrong with that. 

“Looks nice, man,” Blair murmured. “I guess the local businesses do OK from the patronage of the base personnel, huh?” 

“Yeah, I think so, Chief,” Jim replied with a grin. “Especially the bar, because it’s the only one within a reasonable radius of the camp. Food’s pretty good too, if you’re feeling peckish?” 

“Nah, the dinner at the mess hall was fine, sir. I’m just looking forward to relaxing a bit in somewhere other than a military location.” 

“I understand, kiddo,” Jim answered quietly, his expression conveying the truth of the statement. “It hasn’t been easy for you, I know, and I can only hope that eventually you’ll learn to at least accept your new life even if you never wanted it. And I’ll do my best to see that you get as much freedom as possible, OK?” 

That earned Jim a real smile of appreciation from the young guide, and even as he was struck yet again by Blair’s true beauty, both inside and out, he resolved to make good on his promise. Blair deserved everything Jim could do for him, and if he was rewarded by smiles like that that lit up his whole being, it would be well worth it. 

“OK, then, let’s go in. That’s Iain Sturgis’ old truck over there, so I guess they’ve started already,” he said brightly, suddenly needing to lighten the atmosphere and glad when Blair nodded happily. 

“You bet, sir! You have some catching up to do!” and they laughed amicably as they left the jeep and entered the noisy but welcoming bar, quickly spotting the booth where the other members of the team were already nursing tall glasses of cold beer. 

“Hey, boss! ‘Burg! Whatcha havin’?” Sergeant ‘Pepper’ Saltmarsh called out, beckoning the waitress over. 

“Hey, guys! I’ll have an Amber Boch, thanks,” Jim replied cheerfully. “And Junior here’ll have a large diet coke, won’t you, kiddo?” and they all snickered at Blair’s _faux_ rueful grin. 

“Yeah, yeah!” he chuckled. “But only a couple of months until I can have the real thing, guys! And just think, when I visited with my mom Naomi in England, I could drink legally at sixteen! Couldn’t drive though,” he added with a rueful shrug. “Had to be seventeen for that!” 

“Sheesh! Sounds like a good trade-off to me!” joked Marvin Danilo, even as Ramirez nudged him none-too-gently in the ribs. 

“You don’t drive anyway, Marv,” his friend snarked, only to chortle when Danilo swatted him upside the head. 

“And your point is?” the other man queried, as the rest of the group joined in with cheerful laughter. 

The drinks arrived and kept coming, and the group relaxed even more as the conversation flowed easily. Blair found himself thoroughly enjoying the whole experience, even if he was confined to drinking soda all night. To a man, the team involved him in their good-natured teasing, encouraging him to entertain them with anecdotes about his studies and travels, and apparently hanging on every word. And he couldn’t help but feel a certain inner warmth at the sight of Jim’s smiling air of approval as he sat back and watched his team’s interaction. It strengthened Blair’s own determination to do his best for these men who, despite their very different outlook on life, had made the effort to accept him into their midst. 

As the evening wore on, Blair also took the opportunity to study the rest of the room, interested in watching how well the locals interacted with the many service personnel crowding the bar area. He found it easy to spot the differences between military and civilian patrons, because even in similar, casual clothing, soldiers screamed ‘army’ in their bearing and haircuts. However, for the most part exchanges appeared to be friendly enough, with any trading of insults done in a fairly light-hearted manner. The music coming from the jukebox was a mix of rock and country and western, but not so loud as to drown out conversation, although he was careful to check on Jim at regular intervals to make sure the sentinel’s senses were holding steady. 

His wandering attention was brought back by a nudge in his side, and he looked around enquiringly to see Ramirez studying him intently, his expression remarkably perspicacious despite the beer he’d consumed. 

“Know what, Burg,” he began thoughtfully. “Out of the lot of us, you still look like a civilian. I mean, that’s not a bad thing, babe. In fact, I guess it’s something you’ll be pleased to know. See, even though you got short hair now, it’s getting longer than ours, and it’s getting curly!” and he rubbed his hand over the top of Blair head, chuckling when Blair mock-whined, “Not the hair, man!” 

“But it’s not just that,” he continued. “You still look like that student you’ve been telling us all about. And that’s a good thing. You’re still _you!”_

Blair didn’t know what to say, as all the others nodded their agreement, their expressions understanding and approving. He was deeply touched at their honest approbation, and blushed pink under their gazes. 

“Thanks, Ramirez,” he finally managed. “And all you guys. That’s really good of you to say. But I promise that I’m going to do my best for the team even if I do still look like a student! You’ve been really good to me in spite of all my mistakes.” 

“And that’s all we could ask for,” the more restrained Iain Sturgis added, while the others nodded again. 

Knowing that Blair must be feeling a bit uncomfortable, Jim reached over and patted his shoulder. “Hey, kiddo, I don’t suppose you could go to the bar and grab us some of those fresh snacks they’ve just put out, huh? I’m beginning to feel a bit peckish.” And as Blair quickly got to his feet to do as he was asked, Jim grinned at his men behind his guide’s departing back. 

“Thanks, guys,” he murmured sincerely. “That was good of you to say, and it meant a lot to him. I appreciate it.” 

Unfortunately, their goodwill and the evening’s companionable enjoyment was about to take a hit, even though it was hardly Sandburg’s fault. 

As Blair made his way across the crowded room towards the bar, he was happily mulling over his new friends’ comments and so was too distracted to notice the attention he was getting from another group of soldiers in a nearby booth. Not that he would have recognised them anyway, but they were in fact fellow NCOs and friends of Sgt Dermot Murphy, who had now been confined to barracks and was cooling his heels in his quarters. They had been drinking heavily; drowning their sorrows and commiserating on behalf of their missing comrade; and the sight of the young guide who had been instrumental in charging their buddy was like a red rag to a bull. 

As Blair reached the bar, he suddenly found himself surrounded by four very drunk and very belligerent, not to mention tough-looking characters, and he quickly glanced from one to the other, instantly concerned for his own safety. When the biggest and meanest-looking one leant down to look him in the eye, huffing stale beer-breath into his face, he knew he was in trouble, and backed up against the bar. 

“Well, if it isn’t Dermot’s cocksucking little faggot guide!” the big man sneered, poking Blair in the chest with a meaty finger. “It’s thanks to you and your snivelling lies that our good friend isn’t here with us tonight. And yet here you are, enjoying a night out! I think we should teach you just what it means to tell stories like that about real men! Real soldiers who keep candy asses like you safe! What d’you think, lads? Shall we take him out back and give him some more of what he plainly enjoyed?” 

As the others laughed nastily and crowded closer, Blair knew he was in deep shit, but he wasn’t going to back down without a fight. Not now he knew what ‘real soldiers’ actually were, and their company didn’t include these guys. He just had to hope that Jim was monitoring him and would ride to the rescue before he got too damaged. 

“Just back off, man,” he said, proud of himself that his voice didn’t shake as much as he thought it might. “I’m sorry you feel that way, but I did what I had to do. Sgt Murphy _did_ assault me, like he has others before me, and it was time for him to pay. So back off, OK, and leave it alone!” 

His reply was in the form of a glimpse of a huge fist raised to strike him as the ringleader growled in fury. However, thanking the goddess that he still had a clear head; Blair used his newly-acquired unarmed combat skills to twist aside and duck beneath the rather uncoordinated swing, although he knew he wouldn’t be able to avoid many more blows, especially when the others pushed forward to grab his arms. Things might have gone badly for him, except that at that moment, the attackers were themselves surrounded by five very angry and protective special operatives, led by none other than Ft Findlayson’s alpha sentinel. 

“Get your filthy hands off _My Guide,”_ a cold voice cut through the background noise, and Blair and his would-be abusers looked into the deadly and vengeful eyes of Captain Ellison in primal mode. Jim was teetering on the brink of ripping off limbs, and Blair knew it. Frightened as he was, there was no way he wanted to be the cause of Jim facing a court martial on assault, or even murder charges, so he fought his way clear of the NCOs’ suddenly lax holds and reached out to his sentinel. 

“It’s OK, Jim, truly. I’m OK. They didn’t hurt me, man. They’re just drunk is all. Let it go, man, please!” He kept murmuring words in a similar vein, rubbing Jim’s muscular bicep soothingly, but it was touch and go for a long moment before he felt the big man relax marginally beneath his hands. 

As his team looked on, their own grim expressions telegraphing just what they thought about their drunken so-called fellow soldiers, Jim pulled his guide to his side; tucking him beneath his arm as he glared from one to the other of Blair’s now decidedly nervous abusers. 

“Get out of here, and get back to barracks, now!” he barked, his commanding tone enough to make them snap to attention. “And when you get there, report everything about this assault to Colonel Masefield’s office. I’ll be doing so myself tomorrow morning, and woe betide any of you if your description doesn’t tally with mine in any respect. You’re a disgrace to your uniforms, just like you so-called comrade.” His voice dropped then, but was all the more deadly as he added, “And if you even so much as look threateningly at my guide again, you’ll have me – and my team – to answer to, understand? And I really don’t think you want to go there!” 

His men nodded and growled their assent, and the now shaking NCOs swallowed hard at the menace in those cold eyes. 

Snapping as crisp a salute as he could manage under the circumstances, the ringleader barked, “Understood, Captain Ellison, sir! Permission to return to barracks, sir!” 

“Permission granted, Sergeant. Dismissed!” and Jim scowled as he watched the four men, now red-faced in embarrassment, push their way through the circle of interested onlookers surrounding the group. As soon as he heard their vehicles start up and drive away, he relaxed properly and grinned ruefully down into Blair’s upturned and worried face. 

“It’s OK, Chief, they’ve gone. And I’m pretty certain they won’t bother you again. Not if they know what’s good for them. You did good, kiddo. I’m proud of you. You didn’t lose your head or panic.” 

Blair snickered quietly as he ducked his head before looking around at his friends, noting their approving smiles. And he realised that they were more than friends now. He had comrades. Real comrades who would look out for him as they looked out for each other. And it was all good. 

“Thanks, Jim. And thank you guys. I’m sorry to have spoiled your evening…” he began, only to have Marvin Danilo clap him on the back. 

“No problemo, Burg. Nothing we couldn’t take care of, or that we wouldn’t do for any one of us. We’re a team, kiddo, and don’t you forget it!” 

And as Blair offered them all a wide, slightly watery-eyed smile, Jesus Ramirez said cheerfully, “OK, guys! Whose round is it?”


	7. Active Service

**Chapter 7: Active Service:**  


Later that night, Jim watched with fond interest as his still totally sober guide bustled around, toeing off his hiking boots and hanging up the car keys. For himself, although he was far from inebriated despite the beers he’d indulged in, he leaned against the wall of their quarters, just inside the door, enjoying the view. He had a nice buzz going on, and he was still buoyed by the reactions of his team that evening, quietly satisfied with the outcome even if they all could have done without the unpleasant altercation with the drunken NCOs. 

However, when Blair turned to face him, he couldn’t help but note the elevated heart rate, and he tilted his head as he regarded his guide quizzically, concerned that perhaps the younger man was more upset than he’d thought after all. 

“You OK, kiddo?” he asked gently. “You look worried, babe. Are you still thinking that those assholes will come after you? Because I think I can speak for the whole team when I say that they’ll do it over our dead bodies! And you know how unlikely that’ll be!” 

Blair stepped forward until he could place a warm palm over Jim’s heart, his eyes wide as he replied earnestly, “No, sir. Jim. That’s not it, honestly! I know you guys have got my back, and I truly appreciate it. It’s more than I would ever have expected, but in a way it’s the reason behind my decision. What I need to tell you. And I hope that you’ll understand where I’m coming from,” he added shyly. 

Perplexed now, Jim pushed himself away from the wall and raised his arms to grasp his guide around the waist, looking down into the slightly anxious face with a puzzled frown. 

“It’s OK, kiddo,” he murmured, his eyes suddenly almost transfixed by the sight of the lush mouth so close to his, if he did but duck his head a little. “I’d understand if you were worried about those bozos, but if you aren’t, what is it that upsetting you?” 

Blair swallowed hard, and then offered him a shy grin. “Uh, it’s just that I realised tonight just what my new life could offer me, Jim. I mean, don’t get me wrong. It still isn’t what I’d have chosen voluntarily, because I didn’t know any better. But now that choice has been made, I can see that it’s nothing like as hard as I always thought it would be. To bond, that is. 

“Um, see, I think you already realise only too well that commitment was something I feared. Not to a concept, like my studies, or teaching, perhaps, but to an individual. See, I never had a good example to guide me, so I just went along with what my mom Naomi taught me. I watched her ‘detach with love’ time after time, and then we’d move on, so I learned to keep my heart to myself. But tonight, well, you and the guys showed me what it is to belong to a proper team. Be a part of something bigger. Something that can make a difference. And I can only hold up my side of the bargain if I give myself to you properly. As a fully bonded guide. 

“But I admit that I’m scared, Jim. I’ve never gone the whole way with a man before even if I’m OK with the concept. 

“And I’ve just got to wonder if I’m doing the right thing by you too, Jim. If I really am the best you can get, or whether there’s someone out there more suitable,” and he looked away, suddenly unable to meet Jim’s intent gaze. 

As far as Jim was concerned, it was as if all his Christmases had come at once. Here was his beautiful young almost-guide actually offering himself to Jim, even though he was so afraid. And not just afraid for himself, but on behalf of Jim also. Jim didn’t think he had ever witnessed such an act of devotion in his life before. And definitely had never had such a gift presented to him. The responsibility was both exhilarating and awe-inspiring, and for a moment he was robbed of the words to explain just how he felt. 

Finally he found his voice, realising that Blair was getting even more nervous at his silence. “I don’t know what to say, Chief. You’ve completely thrown me, but in the best possible way. Seriously, your courage awes me, kiddo. After the trauma of conscription, what that bastard Murphy put you through, and then pretty much being thrown into the lion’s den with me, you could be forgiven for having a complete breakdown. But instead, you throw yourself into training with the team, and doing your best with me despite your apprehension, and now you’re offering me the greatest gift of all! It’s beyond my wildest dreams, kiddo – Blair,” and he smiled warmly down into the wide blue eyes regarding him so seriously; hope and fear mingling with determination in their entrancing depths. 

However, he knew it was only fair to come clean about his own fears, since Blair had been so open and honest with his thoughts and feelings. And there was no way he could allow the young man to set him up on a pedestal that he so didn’t deserve. Lowering his head until his brow touched Blair’s, he shut his eyes for a moment to give himself time to marshal his thoughts before looking up again to meet and hold Blair’s still somewhat worried gaze. Smiling rather ruefully this time, he said, “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this, Chief. But I need you to know that I’m not everything you seem to think I am. There’s no gift I’d like more than a full bond with you, but please don’t credit me with more respect than I’m due. Your trust in me humbles me, especially as I’ve been struggling so hard with my baser desires. 

“You see, although I think I was ‘in lust’ with you the first day I saw you, there was more to it than that. I mean, you’re a very attractive man, Chief, no doubt about that. But under normal circumstances I’d be pretty much OK with keeping my hands to myself if I thought you really didn’t want me that way. After all,” he said with a wry chuckle, “we army types have other means of scratching an itch if necessary which doesn’t include forcing our attentions where they’re not wanted! Unless you’re an asshole like Murphy, that is,” he added grimly. “But with you it’s different. Considering I’ve never wanted a guide, I was shocked to discover that the attraction is so much stronger than anything I’ve ever felt before, so I suppose it’s an instinctive sentinel and guide thing too between compatible partners. And I freely admit it’s been hell holding you at night and not putting the moves on you! But I don’t _want_ to be ruled by some primitive urge, and I really didn’t want to destroy any trust you have in me. 

“So, now you know, Chief, are you still of the same mind? Because I’ve got to tell you, your trust is really important to me, and I don’t want to do anything to hurt you.” 

Blair looked up into his face, his expression serious as ever, but still determined. “Thank you for being so open with me, Jim. I mean, I guess I realised that it must have been hard for you to control yourself, but not exactly _how_ hard! I’ve been too wrapped up in my own misery to give you the attention you deserve. It’s hardly been fair on you either, after all. But the thing is, you _didn’t_ act on your ‘baser instincts’, and I _do_ trust you not to hurt me. And I trust the guys not to hurt me either, same as I truly hope never to hurt any of you or let you down. 

“So, if you want me, I’m yours, Jim. I don’t know how well this is going to work, and I’ll apologise in advance if it turns out that you’ve bought a dud in me, but I promise I’ll do my best, Jim. I think I _have_ to! It just feels _right_ somehow.” 

This time Jim pulled him into a full-body hug, savouring the warmth and scent of the already precious bundle in his arms. He wasn’t going to spoil this; not for anything. 

“I want you, Chief. Don’t ever think I don’t!” Jim murmured feelingly into the nearest shapely ear. “Will you let me take you to bed now, and imprint you fully? And then we can take it from there,” he added, voice lowering seductively. And was thrilled to feel the determined nod against his shoulder as Blair melted further into his embrace. He was going to make this good for his guide if it was the last thing he did. 

Moving over to the bed, Jim tilted his head in a tacit request for permission as he raised his hands to start undoing the buttons on Blair’s shirt. Swallowing hard, but nodding firmly, Blair offered him a slightly nervous grin as Jim began to strip him, taking his time to pay homage to every inch of skin as it was revealed. It had to be the most erotic experience Blair had ever had, and by the time he was naked and stretched out flat on the bed, he was already trembling with need. And the trembling only grew in intensity as Jim stripped down, his magnificent body and impressive erection enough to push Blair’s eager anticipation higher still. Never before had he been the complete centre of attention for anyone, even his mom, and the realisation that this man-god truly wanted him was amazing indeed. 

Lying down beside his guide, Jim propped himself up on one elbow, smiling down into the huge blue eyes gazing up at him before oh-so-slowly lowering his head to brush the lush lips he was offered in the gentlest of kisses. And when Blair moaned softly and opened his mouth to permit the invasion of Jim’s tongue, Jim’s taste buds thrilled to the explosion of wonderful flavours as he finally tasted his guide properly. And it was everything he had imagined, and more. 

After long minutes of simply enjoying ever more intense kisses, Jim pulled away with a soft smile, and began to imprint Blair once again. But this time it was far from the clinical and impersonal way Jim had had to force himself to adopt before. This time he didn’t hold back, and Blair responded with increasing fervour as he was mapped with an intensity he could barely comprehend until he was practically writhing with heated lust. 

“Please, man!” he gasped. “Please get me ready, Jim! I want you, man, and I know you won’t hurt me. Take me, my Sentinel!” 

Jim smiled broadly, his own desire almost peaking, but still he refused to hurry. This was going to be as good for Blair as he could make it, so he dropped a kiss on the end of Blair’s nose as he murmured fondly, “Patience, Grasshopper! I’m going to prepare you now, and I’m not rushing it, OK? You said you were a virgin to male / male sex, and the first time can hurt a bit, so we’re taking it slowly. Even if I’m getting blue balls!” he joked, pleased when Blair giggled breathlessly in response. 

Encouraging Blair to turn on his side, Jim lubed his fingers well before ghosting over the young man’s most private place, dropping a gentle kiss on both buttocks where the now healed but still visibly scarred burn area lay. He knew that Blair was ashamed of the marks, however often Jim told him it did nothing to mar his beauty, but inside he still raged at Murphy’s unforgivable cruelty. The man was still confined to barracks until the Board of Enquiry could be convened, but a more primitive part of Jim wished that he might be released, just long enough for Jim to get his hands on him…. 

But he shook those dark thoughts off quickly, having far more important things to concentrate on right now. Things like listening to his soon-to-be-bonded guide moaning in lust as he pushed back eagerly against Jim’s invading fingers. And when Jim massaged his ‘sweet spot’, Blair nearly levitated off the bed, and Jim knew he was ready. As Jim was more than ready to oblige him. 

Even so, he entered slowly, stilling when Blair gasped a little at the extra stretch. “Ooooh, that’s a bit tight,” he breathed. “Don’t stop, Jim, but can you give me a moment?” 

“Sure, babe, no problem,” Jim whispered reassuringly in his ear, even though it was hell trying to control the urge to push in. But his patience was rewarded more quickly than he expected as Blair consciously relaxed, and within moments they were fully joined. 

Jim reached around to massage Blair’s flagging erection, pleased when it soon hardened once more in his hand as Blair pushed back experimentally against him. And soon they were in sync, moving together towards a mutual climax that was as wonderful as anything either man had ever experienced before; an explosion of power and light and understanding as they became one once more, as they always had, and ever would be.  


\------------------------  


Exhausted – in the best possible way – the two men slept through the night wrapped in each other’s arms, with Blair ending up lying half-on, half-off his new ‘Jim body pillow’. When Jim woke the next morning at 0 dark 30 as per his military-induced habit, he smiled to see the curly head resting on his chest, Blair’s face snuggled almost into his neck. His guide’s hair was growing out a little, and the curls were setting in nicely now, much to Jim’s satisfaction. Not that they’d be able to grow out as much as the beautiful locks Jim had seen in the photograph in the young grad student’s file, but Jim was perfectly happy for a certain amount of silky hair through which to run his fingers. And he was certain that Blair would appreciate a little leeway in the haircutting department also, since he now knew so much more about his guide than any other person of his acquaintance. 

_His Guide!_ Now, wasn’t that a wonderful concept? Jim smiled smugly as he ghosted his hand over Blair’s smooth back, sentinel ‘almost-touch’ easily as good as a _mundane’s_ physical contact when it came to enjoying the pleasant sensation of that warm, satiny skin. Because pleasure it was indeed, heightened to an even more unimaginable degree through their bonding, and Jim couldn’t help but smile fondly down at his still sleeping young partner. His senses sang in a way he could never have imagined, thanks to the grounding effect of Blair’s physical presence. Whereas he had been generally satisfied by the toned-down version of his hypersensitivity in the field –at least while he could control it – this was almost mind-blowing, and as he sent each sense out in turn with ease, he couldn’t hold back his self-satisfied grin. His senses were as they should be at long last, and it was all down to the courage and generosity of the man in his arms. 

Settling back again against his pillows, he decided to enjoy a bit of extra relaxation. It was, after all, officially the last day of their bonding leave, so he thought that he would allow Blair a bit more down-time after the somewhat eventful evening out and the momentous love-making they had indulged in. Blair was his now. His to protect and cherish, and his to love. Yes, _love._ It was true. He knew soul-deep that he loved his guide, and that his guide loved him in turn. And that Blair would back him up in whatever situation and under whatever circumstances they might find themselves. Because in that fantastic instant of bonding, they had joined in both body and mind, and now knew each other as intimately as any two people could possibly achieve. True soulmates at last. 

And Jim realised that his bonded guide was indeed as beautiful inside as he was outside, and the fact that he was now bound to Jim was so mind-blowing that Jim couldn’t yet fully absorb its true impact. It wasn’t telepathy _per se,_ but through their merging, they were now able to ‘see’ each other’s thoughts and emotions, and whereas before Jim might have found that concept distinctly uncomfortable, if not downright terrifying, now he embraced it with surprising equanimity. 

And it was all down to Blair. 

Shortly afterwards, Jim registered the slight changes in Blair’s physiological responses that signalled his slow return to consciousness. Smirking in contentment at the exquisite torture of Blair’s be-whiskered jaw rubbing unconsciously against the smooth skin of his chest, Jim peered down to monitor Blair’s awakening. And it was indeed enchanting in the sentinel’s opinion to watch those gorgeous blue eyes blink open so that Blair could peek a little myopically up at him, the luscious lips lifting in a sleepy half-grin as he registered his position. 

“Hey, Jim; Captain, sir, what time is it? Shouldn’t we be up already?” 

“Not today, babe,” Jim replied fondly. “This is supposed to be the last day of our official bonding leave, so I’m making a unilateral decision to enjoy a little more R and R while we can. OK with you?” 

Blair’s smile widened as he met Jim’s gaze. “Oh yeah, I’m so down with that!” he replied, his voice husky with invitation. “Do you want to carry on where we left off?” 

At that, Jim laughed aloud, charmed by the younger man’s attitude. He was sure that this was the Blair Sandburg of pre-draft days, and Jim rejoiced to see its return. 

“No, Chief, much as I’d like to,” he replied honestly. “It’s too soon for me to take you again, believe me, babe. And as soon as you move, I think you’ll see why!” 

Blair frowned disbelievingly for a moment, then shifted to roll off Jim’s body, his bladder demanding relief whether he appreciated it or not. “Ooh, ouch!” he groaned, a small frown creasing his brow. “You’re right, Jim,” he admitted, casting a wry glance at his sentinel. “It’s not too bad, don’t worry, man,” he hastened to reassure Jim. “It’s just that I think I’ve discovered muscles I didn’t know I had! But I sure enjoyed the learning experience!” he added, grinning lasciviously at Jim’s bemused expression. 

Jim smiled fondly, ruffling his guide’s short curls with a gentle hand. “I’m glad, babe. Really glad. And I promise you we can repeat the experience as often as you want once you’re used to it! 

“But meanwhile, why don’t you pay a visit, then come back to bed? We can at least cuddle a bit longer,” he added, wiggling his eyebrows in invitation. 

“You’re on, man!” Blair agreed with alacrity, before climbing carefully off the bed. Suddenly all he wanted to do was take care of business and get back into bed, to enjoy the loving embrace of those powerful and so protective arms for as long as possible. 

A few minutes later he was back in bed and snuggling up again, but this time a little more reservedly. Able now to distinguish the change in his guide’s demeanour with ease, Jim cupped the younger man’s cheek in his palm as he encouraged Blair to look at him. “You OK, Chief? Not having second thoughts are you?” he asked a little anxiously. 

“Oh, no, Jim!” came the immediate reply. “At least not about our bond, honestly. Um, it’s just that, well, I was wondering how you really felt about the merge? I mean, you _did_ see the same thing I did, didn’t you?” he queried rather diffidently. Because at the instant of their connection, he had experienced a brief but powerful vision of an unknown, blue-tinted jungle, where a beautiful silver timber wolf had run towards a sleek black jaguar, both animals leaping to merge in a flash of brilliant light. Never before had he had such a vivid vision, even during a couple of experimental spirit walks he had undertaken during his studies, and he really wanted to know what Jim thought about it. 

“You mean the spirit animals, babe?” Jim replied with a soft smile. “Yes, I did, kiddo. And while I’d be the first to admit that I’ve never been comfortable with the spiritual side of the whole ‘Sentinel’ phenomenon, I accept it that it exists. I’ve known about the jag for a while now, ever since we went on a mission to Peru. The shaman of a local tribe helped me when I had a bit of trouble with the senses, and he told me to expect to find my true guide once we returned to the US. Of course, I didn’t want to believe him, even when he introduced me to my spirit animal, but he was right on the nail, wasn’t he? And your wolf is as beautiful as you are, Chief. And you know now that I mean what I say!” 

Blair beamed at him, reassured again. “Thanks, Jim. For telling me. I didn’t know what my spirit animal was, although I often hoped I had one. It’s just so fantastic now to have all the theoretical stuff I’ve absorbed through the years become fact. And I want to keep on learning – keep on putting it into practice, even if it means I have to face up to some pretty unpleasant situations. As long as we’re together, I’ll be OK.” 

Jim responded by hugging him hard. “Me too, kiddo,” he chuckled. “Now, it’s my turn to need the john, but once I’m done, I think we could both do with a shower. Shall we help the environment by sharing and saving water?” 

“Oh yeah, Jim!” came the enthusiastic reply. “I’m so down with that!”  


\-----------------------  


Shortly afterwards, having enjoyed an extremely satisfying shared shower, both men were dressed and preparing to enjoy a light breakfast in their quarters, not ready yet to leave the comfort of their new-found togetherness and face the outside world. Jim guessed that it was going to be a shock to the system for Blair now his empathy was fully online, and they would both have to be careful to ensure that Jim’s protective shielding was up and running as it should be. Both men supposed that it would quickly become second nature to them with practice, but the first few days might be a bit hard on the new guide. 

As Blair pottered around preparing cereal and toast, Jim suddenly cocked his head, having heard approaching feet. 

“Dammit!” he growled. “Can’t we have this last day to ourselves? What do they want now?” 

As Blair looked up, frowning in mild concern, Jim threw open the door before their visitor could knock to reveal a slightly startled Lt Blakeway. Colonel Masefield’s dapper assistant snapped to attention before glancing quickly around Jim’s bulk to see Blair gazing a little anxiously towards the door. 

“Captain Ellison, sir,” he began. “Colonel Masefield’s compliments, sir, but would you and Guide Sandburg report to his office at 1300 hours, sir. He wishes to advise you that there is an urgent mission on which he needs to brief you. Sir!” 

Irritated though he was, Jim had no choice but to follow orders, so he quickly acceded, then dismissed the other officer peremptorily even as he turned to meet Blair’s worried gaze. 

“Gods, I’m so sorry, kiddo!” he murmured, quickly walking over to the young guide in order to enfold him in a comforting hug. “I didn’t expect this so soon, babe. There’s no way I’d be prepared to take on an operation so soon after our bonding if I could possibly avoid it. It’s not fair on you or the rest of the team, for that matter. But orders are orders, Chief. 

“It looks like we’re going on active service whether we’re ready or not!”  



	8. A Delicate Operation

**Chapter 8: A Delicate Operation:**  


**Colonel Masefield’s office:**  


At 1300 hours on the dot, Jim and Blair presented themselves at their commanding officer’s office, both men wrapped up in their own thoughts to a certain extent as they anticipated the reason for their summons. As far as Jim was concerned, aggravation was uppermost in his mind, mostly on Blair’s behalf, but also on his own and his team’s. Their bond was so new that he was truly worried about being thrown back into the field before they had even had a chance to practice their connection under normal circumstances, let alone under potentially dangerous conditions. Whereas before he had accepted missions as they were presented to him as his duty and military _raison d’être,_ now he had to worry about how he, Blair and his team would perform when their leader was so new to this whole ‘shielding-the-guide / maximum hypersensitivity’ shtick. He wasn’t accustomed to the feeling of possible inadequacy, and potential failure because of it, and it jabbed uncomfortably at his normally sound self-confidence. 

As for Blair, he was intensely anxious about the whole question of going into any sort of dangerous situation, especially so soon after bonding. Never very strong in the self-esteem department anyway, he had hoped to be able to practice with Jim and the others for at least a few days before being thrown in at the deep end, so to speak. As soon as he and Jim had emerged from their quarters to obey the colonel’s summons, he had had what could only be described as a ‘head rush’ as his new, heightened empathy tried to cope with so many external emotions. It was only when Jim quickly pulled him close and muttered urgently, “Link with me now, Chief!” that he managed to find and open their connection. The relief was immediate as the sentinel’s shields cocooned him, and he had grinned ruefully up into Jim’s worried face. 

“Thanks, Jim. Sorry about that! I guess it’ll become automatic with practice, but just then I forgot! I’m not used to having to rely on anyone but myself for anything.” 

“I’m sure you’re right, kiddo,” Jim had replied, “but it’d come a whole lot easier and quicker if we could practice on our own time for another few days at least. But I’m thinking that we’re not going to be granted that luxury, so all our practicing will have to be done on the job!” 

And once they entered Masefield’s office at his invitation, they were to learn to their dismay that their fears were well-founded. 

Pausing briefly as he opened the door, Jim glanced down again at Blair’s set and pale face. “You OK, kiddo?” he murmured. “Shields still good?” 

Blair peeked up at him, and offered a small, wry grin. “Yeah, so far so good, man. Steady and holding!” 

Jim nodded and smiled briefly in response, and then his face settled once more into its customary neutral ‘ready-for-business’ expression. Time to find out just what Masefield had lined up for them. 

“Captain Ellison, Guide Sandburg.” Masefield regarded the two men speculatively as they came to attention before his desk. He had glimpsed the brief interaction between the pair as they entered, and was quietly gratified by it even as he noted Ellison’s alert demeanour, although the studiedly expressionless face gave nothing away. On the other hand, Sandburg’s whole being shouted wariness, and Masefield was in no doubt that the sentinel was fully tuned into the guide’s discomfort. Which was no bad thing as far as he was concerned, because it was proof positive that the bond had been achieved, which was exactly what the colonel needed. 

“Take a seat, gentlemen,” he said cordially, indicating the chairs positioned in front of his desk. “I’ve heard good reports of Guide Sandburg’s progress during your period of bonding leave, and am satisfied that you will be up to dealing with the situation that has arisen. I realise that it is customary to allow a longer period before returning a new sentinel and guide pair to the field, but in this case I want my best team on it. And that means you, Captain.” 

However, he was less than pleased to witness Ellison’s immediate reaction as the man stiffened in his seat, reaching out a hand to grasp Sandburg’s forearm in what appeared to be an instinctive steadying gesture. 

“With all due respect, sir, I believe that it’s far too soon to expect Guide Sandburg to go on active service. Yes, he has made remarkable progress during our training sessions, in both working with myself and with my team, but the full bond is still in its infancy, sir, and we have much to learn.” 

Masefield’s brows drew together as he frowned at Jim’s words. “Surely the past two weeks will have been enough to settle your bond, Captain? Granted your guide will be short on practical field experience, but you must both be secure in your personal relationship by now!” 

He was even more disconcerted when Jim’s brow creased in a frown, and the captain’s lips thinned in overt irritation even though the glance he sent to his distinctly anxious-looking guide was nothing but supportive. 

“If we had achieved the full bond immediately, sir,” he began somewhat reluctantly, “perhaps that would be true. But Guide Sandburg was in no fit state to enter into anything more than a working bond until recently. That is, just last night, sir. There was no way I was going to force him after the trauma of what he had suffered at Sgt Murphy’s hands, and I am only grateful and relieved that he has found the courage to agree to enter into the full bond with me now. 

“So you must understand that no, we aren’t yet completely settled in our new relationship, sir. We’re talking about a whole new dimension, sir.” 

Now Masefield was growing impatient, angered by what he perceived to be sentinel over-protectiveness towards a fragile guide. Although well used to commanding units containing sentinel and guide pairs, as a _mundane,_ he couldn’t fully comprehend the enormous differences between a practical working bond and the deeply intimate full bond; the concept of a spiritual merge beyond his imagination. Yes, theoretically he might accept that such differences existed, and appreciated the additional advantages of having a fully bonded pair on his team as opposed to a basic working partnership, but he was only interested in how any such partnerships could be successfully utilised in the field. Any problems either physical or mental arising as a consequence of active service could be dealt with by the appropriate medical or psychiatric experts present on the base as and when necessary. 

“Well, that’s as may be, Captain Ellison,” he snapped. “But the fact remains that I have a delicate situation to deal with, and whether you like it or not, I want you and your team on it. Perhaps it is a baptism of fire as far as your guide and your bond is concerned, but I have every confidence that you will be able to carry out your mission successfully. So listen up, and I will outline the problem for you, after which you can call your team together for a full briefing.” 

And there really wasn’t anything else that Jim and Blair could do but listen in growing concern as he did so.  


\----------------------------  


**Later that afternoon, in Captain Ellison’s office:**  


Jim surveyed the men seated comfortably before him, noting their grim expressions as they waited for him to begin. He knew they were concerned for Blair, who was seated beside him, and who was presently staring fixedly at his hands, which were tightly clenched in his lap. It wasn’t the kid’s fault that for once he couldn’t rise to the occasion and interact cheerfully with his teammates; which was something he usually managed to do even if he was feeling less than chipper; because this time the circumstances were just too fraught. And Jim could hardly blame him for that. Sighing softly to himself, Jim reached across and gave those clasped hands a quick squeeze, which earned him a tiny, grateful grin as Blair did his best to shake off the fear that had him in its grip. Jim nodded encouragingly in response, and then faced his team again. 

“OK, then, guys. Let’s get this show on the road. I’ll start with the good news, and that is that Blair and I have achieved the full bond, so from now on I should be able to utilise these senses of mine to their fullest extent with his backup.” 

As expected, the other men were genuinely pleased for them, and their heart-felt congratulations elicited smiles of gratitude from the small guide, even though Blair’s face remained far too pale and strained for their liking. However, when Jim recommenced his explanation, the reason for his anxiety quickly became obvious. 

“Thanks, guys. We both appreciate your support, and I know I speak for both of us when I say that we hope to achieve great things in due course. But right now, we have a problem, insofar as we have already been assigned a covert operation, and I’m sorry to say that there’s no getting out of it. I’ve tried explaining to Colonel Masefield that Blair and I need more time to acclimatise ourselves to our new connection, but he is adamant that our team carry out this particular mission. 

“So we’re going to have to do our ‘acclimatising’ as we go, and hope to god that it’s enough. 

“I have every confidence in you, guys. As a team, we’ve pulled off some pretty hairy stuff with notable success in the past. But I still think that it’s unfair that you may be put at risk through our inexperience, and that’s what’s bothering Blair the most, isn’t it, kiddo?” he added, turning to face the silent guide. 

Blair nodded, and finally found his voice, looking up to meet each of his friends’ gazes in turn, his own eyes huge and mournful as he spoke. “Jim’s right. I _am_ scared for myself, but mostly because I don’t know if I’m up to the task. And if I let Jim down – let _you_ down because of my inadequacy - I’ll never forgive myself. I was hoping for a little more time to practice using our link before being thrown in at the deep end. I just hope that my inexperience with my new empathy doesn’t get you killed, guys,” and he tailed off sadly, averting his gaze again as he didn’t want to see the anger and disdain he was certain must be colouring their expressions now. 

However, he looked up again in some surprise as Iain Sturgis responded, his steady gaze understanding as he said, “It’s not your fault, Blair, and we all know what you’re capable of already. I for one have every confidence in your ability to adapt and learn, having seen how you threw yourself into training with us. The Captain is a lucky man to have found a guide as capable as you at last, and I think I can speak for the other guys when I say that we’ll manage just fine, OK?” 

“He’s right, Burg,” ‘Pepper’ Saltmarsh agreed, grinning cheerfully at the young guide. “You’ll be fine, kiddo. We take care of our own, and we’ll have your back. _Both_ your backs!” he added, casting a cheeky grin at Jim. 

Danilo and Ramirez joined in with their words of assent, and Jim watched in quiet satisfaction as his team offered his anxious guide their unconditional support and reassurance. 

As Blair looked decidedly more relieved now, even if not exactly happy, he knew it was time to get down to serious business, so he called the meeting to order again. 

“Right then, guys. Much as I appreciate your support, it’s time to get this briefing underway. So, this is what I know so far, although Colonel Masefield and Lt Blakeway will be joining us later to give us the latest updates and finer details. We’re being sent to Venezuela, guys.” 

As the men settled down again, their attention fully focussed on their leader, Jim continued. 

“The US Military Attaché in Caracas appears to have been targeted by person or persons unknown. According to the CIA, and our own military intelligence, he was working with the local authorities trying to clean up the judiciary and police force. Not an easy or enviable task, as you can well imagine. Corruption is rife, and drug, gun and people trafficking are as prolific as ever. And Caracas is dubbed the world’s kidnap capital for good reason. 

“And apparently that is what’s happened to his wife and teenage daughter. According to our information, they were travelling to the airport to fly back to the USA for a family gathering, and they were hijacked on the way. They were travelling in an armoured vehicle, as is the norm now, with another following as an escort when they were deliberately forced off the road by another truck. The escort vehicle was rammed and put out of action by a further one, and the first vehicle’s driver and the family’s personal security guard were shot at close range by well-armed attackers before they could retaliate. The driver died instantly, and the guard is critical. And the wife and daughter were snatched and driven away. 

“By all accounts it was a well-planned and executed attack, but as I say, as yet the motive isn’t known. It could be a simple ransom kidnapping, although that seems highly unlikely given the nature of the attack, and as far as I know, there hasn’t yet been a ransom demand – at least, not for money. So we could be looking at several alternatives. It could be a revenge kidnapping, because for sure there are going to be a lot of criminals and corrupt officials down there who will have a lot of hatred for him because of his interference in their affairs. And in that case, I’d say that the women’s lives are going to be in real danger, especially if they’re going to be used as an example. 

“And then again, it could be that they’ve been snatched by some new political faction or dissident group wanting recognition and / or concessions from the government. 

“Whatever the case, we’re being flown down there a.s.a.p. to go in undercover, working with the CIA and whoever in authority that can be trusted to see if we can locate and rescue the victims in time without causing an international incident. And of course it goes without saying that if we’re caught, the military will deny all knowledge of us, so we’ll have to rely on our cover stories and false IDs until we can be extracted. Any questions or suggestions?” 

He knew that none of his team would articulate any real dissent or criticism. They were consummate professionals after all, committed to doing their duty whether they agreed with it in principle or not. Then again, under the circumstances, he wanted to give them a chance to air their opinions in the face of possible uncertainty where the new sentinel and guide partnership were concerned. 

However, there were no such queries or comments forthcoming, and he was satisfied that his pride and confidence in his men was well-founded. They simply accepted the inevitable, and turned their attention to the logistics of the mission instead. And when Colonel Masefield and Lt Blakeway arrived to provide them with all the relevant updated details, they all knew it was a done deal, and that was that.  



	9. Undercover in Caracas

**Chapter 9: Undercover in Caracas:**  


A slightly sardonic grin on his face, Jim studied his team, who were sprawled comfortably around his and Blair’s shabby hotel room. Dressed in casual clothing, they looked slightly disreputable, but despite their relaxed postures, he knew they were alert and ready for action. Although they had flown from Washington State to Florida on a military transport, they had completed the last leg of their journey to Caracas on a commercial flight under assumed IDs in order to maintain as much secrecy as possible. Their new passports identified them as Joe Ellis, Jake Sanders, Evan Strong, John Marshal, Matt Daniels and Jose Ramos, the similarities to their real names intentional as they were less likely to forget them or get unnecessarily confused under fraught conditions. Apart from Jim and Blair, they had travelled separately on the commercial flight, checking in to their pre-booked, designated hotel at different times to allay suspicion. And now they were gathered together awaiting the arrival of the local CIA agent who was to brief them on the situation so far. 

Perched on the arm of the chair beside him, he could feel the tiny tremors that shook his guide’s body as Blair did his best to control his compulsion to either jiggle his knee or tap his fingers in nervous tension. The young man was understandably anxious, never having been in such a situation before, but was making a huge effort not to annoy Jim or his teammates. Stifling his irritation and sighing internally, Jim resisted the urge to remark on Blair’s agitated behaviour, as he didn’t want to upset the guide any more than necessary. The kid was doing his best, and as it seemed that the rest of his team didn’t seem to be particularly bothered, Jim reckoned that he could put up with it. 

“OK, guys,” he said suddenly, sitting up a little straighter. “I can hear someone approaching, so I’m guessing it should be our CIA contact. And there’s someone with him,” he added, glancing meaningfully up at Blair. The young guide knew exactly what Jim was asking, and immediately reached down to gently grasp a powerful bicep, rubbing it gently as he murmured almost sub-vocally in order to ground the sentinel as he sent out his hearing. As the others watched intently, Jim listened for a few moments before dialling his hearing back down again and glancing around the room, a disgruntled frown creasing his brow. 

“By the sound of it, the agent has a local man with him, probably a police undercover officer. He’s been telling him to keep his mouth shut and not interact with us unless asked. I know the agency has to work with local law enforcement officers when they have to – or when they think that they can be trusted – but I don’t like the fact that this guy is going to be able to recognise us. I want three of you to make yourself scarce, OK? Danilo, Ramirez and Saltmarsh, go hide in the bathroom, OK? Let’s keep at least half the team out of sight for now.” 

As the three quickly moved to do his bidding, Jim turned to face the door again, absently patting Blair’s hand as he did so. With the bathroom door now closed, he nodded towards Sturgis. 

“Here they come, Iain!” he murmured grimly, and moments later a quick tap on the door announced their visitors’ arrival. 

Standing to one side of the door, Sturgis reached across to open it with his free hand, his other hand holding his large, semi-auto pistol at the ready by his side. Jim and Blair were seated slightly out of direct line of sight, poised to move swiftly if there was any hint that this might be an ambush, but the door opened to reveal two men, both of them holding out empty hands in an unthreatening gesture as they glanced quickly around the room. 

As his eyes came to rest on Jim and Blair, the taller of the two grinned briefly. “Mr Ellis and Mr Sanders, I presume,” he said, plainly recognising them and using their aliases. “Good to meet you gentlemen. And Mr Strong,” he added, including Iain Sturgis in his glance. “I’m Barney Costello, and this is Lt Emilio Sanchez of Caracas PD’s Serious Crimes Division. May we come in?” 

Jim recognised Agent Costello from the file photo he’d been shown, but he still did a quick sensory scan on both men, satisfied that their physiological responses showed nothing out of the ordinary barring some understandable tension and slightly elevated heartrates. He exchanged a speaking glance with Blair, knowing that the young man would also have used his empathy to try and detect any untoward mental or emotional stress, but on receiving a minute nod of confirmation that all seemed well, he turned back to face them. 

“Sure, come on in, guys. Make yourself comfortable. I think we have a lot to discuss.” 

The two men entered the room fully, and sat side by side on the edge of the bed, which was the only other available space apart from the floor. Costello’s shrewd gaze met Jim’s as he said, “So, where is the rest of your team, Mr Ellis?” 

“Don’t worry about them, Costello. They’ll be brought up to speed in due course,” Jim replied nonchalantly, unsurprised when the other man nodded almost imperceptibly. He knew where Jim was coming from, and he wasn’t about to question the other man’s desire to keep person-to-person contact to a minimum. Theoretical information was one thing, but the physical confirmation of it might possibly compromise security in this sort of covert operation, and both operatives knew it. 

“Fair enough, Mr Ellis. So, this is what we know so far – or _think_ we know,” Costello began. 

“As you’ll already have been advised, the military attaché, Ronald Barclay, has been here in Caracas for two years now. He has been working closely with local authorities - at their request, I may add - to identify corrupt officials both in the police department and within the ranks of local politicians, and wannabe politicos, although it goes without saying that we cannot be seen to be taking an active role in apprehending and prosecuting them. No one wants an international incident based on perceived US interference after all. We get enough flack at home and abroad for work done by the DEA against drug trafficking and such in South America as it is. And of course it remains government policy not to respond overtly to ransom demands anyway, which is why you’re here after all. 

“Anyhow, we believe that one of the cages Barclay has been rattling belongs to a particularly nasty piece of work called Carlos Sandoval. He’s a known crime lord, but has made himself virtually untouchable through bribery and corruption, and now he’s looking to claw his way into the local political scene,” and here he exchanged a speaking glance with his companion, who nodded as he took up the tale. 

“It’s true, Mr Ellis, although it pains me to say so. Caracas is rife with such criminals, but Sandoval is pretty near the top of the tree when it comes to power and influence. And if Ronald Barclay has disappointed him in any way, he will not hold back from taking his revenge. He believes himself above the law, and that he is rich enough to buy off any opposition. And if that doesn’t work, well, we know for sure that he’s been behind many slayings, even though we never get any hard evidence to tie him in with them. Brutality and intimidation is second nature to the likes of Sandoval, so no witness in their right mind would speak out against him, for sure,” and the honest cop’s face twisted in disgust at the admission. 

Jim eyed both men thoughtfully for a long moment. “So, what evidence do you have that this guy is behind the kidnapping? Other than speculation, that is. There must be something more concrete you’re basing your theory on.” 

Costello nodded, appreciating the other man’s perspicacity. This was no military-issue marionette, but a thinking leader who would do his duty but not blindly so. Ellison’s - _Ellis’s_ team, he mentally corrected himself – had an impressive success rate by all accounts, and he would do well to remember it. 

“We believe that Sandoval has been deliberately trying to influence Barclay. They have certainly met in plain sight on occasion at official dinners and gatherings of Caracas’ ‘movers and shakers’ at the embassy and other such high-class venues. Of course, there’s little chance at that sort of shindig to have private conversations, but according to Barclay’s acquaintances it would appear that Sandoval at least made quite the impression on Barclay’s wife and daughter. He can be extremely personable when he wants to be, more’s the pity, because it makes his attempts at social plausibility more effective. 

“Now, having said that, of course any family member of US diplomatic personnel is automatically allotted as much official protection as possible, especially in a dangerous city like Caracas. But apparently Sandoval has still managed to meet with the wife and daughter on occasion at reputable restaurants or at the theatre. And that’s something that has only come to light since the kidnapping! Your guess is as good as mine at this point as to whether the meetings were pre-arranged or not, because Barclay’s saying nothing. 

“So I think it’s almost certain that he is our culprit, Ellis, but how to extract the vics safely and clandestinely won’t be an easy task. But that again is your field of operation.” 

Jim regarded him carefully, his mind working overtime as he absorbed Costello’s information. Finally, he said, “OK, so if you’re correct, where would this Sandoval be holding the hostages? Would he be arrogant enough to have them on his own premises?” 

It was Sanchez who answered him this time, nodding grimly as he explained. “Yes, Mr Ellis, he would. Because not only does he believe himself to have enough power and influence to carry it off, but he has a place up in the mountains outside of the city which is a virtually inaccessible compound. It’s both an extremely luxurious dwelling and a heavily guarded stronghold, and there’s no doubt at all that he thinks himself safe there. I have seen it while on an official visit, and I can tell you for a fact that he has plenty of manpower and firepower up there to protect him and his property. And it’s a given that he’ll have the best security systems money can buy. I’m sure you’ll have seen similar places before, sir, financed by drug dealers and cartel bosses.” 

Jim nodded noncommittally. “Maybe so, Sanchez. But I want to meet with Barclay before we even try to go in. I know there hasn’t been any ransom demand made yet, but I think we all agree that those two women don’t have much time if they’re being used as leverage – or revenge – against Barclay. I need to see him for myself to see where he’s coming from, and I’m sure you know why!” he added, meeting both men’s gazes steadily. 

And he wasn’t at all surprised when they both nodded in understanding, although it was Sanchez who spoke first. “I understand, _Sentinale_. You and your companion will be able to tell if he’s holding anything back, no?” 

“That’s what I’m hoping, Lt Sanchez. If he’s lying about anything at all, I should be able to tell.” 

Costello pursed his lips. “OK, Ellis. But obviously time is of the essence, so it’d better be a.s.a.p. I’ll arrange for a hire car to be left in the hotel parking lot in one hour’s time, OK? You and Mr Sanders here will drive to the embassy, where you’ll be met and escorted to Barclay’s residence in the compound. It’s risky, but I trust the personnel guarding the attaché not to pass on any information about your presence or your identities. 

“So, we’ll go now and set the meeting up. And let’s hope it produces some worthwhile information. As you say, those women most likely don’t have long.” 

With that, the two men rose to their feet, and nodding briefly to Jim, Blair and Iain Sturgis, they let themselves out. Jim followed them with his hearing until they left the building, then turned to his guide. “You going to be OK with this, Junior?” he said with a grin, even though he knew very well that the young man was troubled to say the least. But he realised that he shouldn’t have been surprised at his plucky guide’s response when the Blair answered wryly, 

“Always wanted to see how our diplomatic guys lived, Jim – er, I mean, _Joe!_ And it’ll be good practise for us also, won’t it? See how well our on-the-job training is going!” and he offered Jim a slightly shaky grin. 

Proud of his partner, even though he was well aware of the kid’s nervousness, Jim returned the grin with a wide smile of his own. 

“You got it, _Jake,_ he snickered, squeezing Blair’s shoulder comfortingly. “Let’s get the other guys back in here, and I’ll bring them up to speed with our plans so far. But I’m betting that they’ll not like the idea of staying here while we go to the embassy!”  


\------------------------  


Less than two hours later, Jim and Blair were pulling up in a side street about a half block from the US Embassy compound. They were both hyper-alert and on the lookout for any sign of an ambush, but Jim at least knew that they had no alternative but to go along with this course of action if they wanted to meet Barclay face-to-face. So far Costello had come through for them, calling Jim on the untraceable phones with which they’d been provided to tell him that the unremarkable sedan had been delivered to the hotel for their use, and that the appropriate security staff had been advised of their arrival at the embassy. As expected, the rest of the team hadn’t taken it well at all that Jim and Blair should be going off on their own without backup, but at least they had their handguns with them, so Jim took some comfort in that. 

Of course, none of them had been able to bring any other form of armaments with them on the commercial flight, but he and his men possessed official documentation to say that they were carrying side arms for personal protection only, and had special dispensation for said side-arms to be transported in the aircraft’s hold. It was a regular and accepted practice between reciprocating countries, particularly with sporting guns, but any other serious ‘hardware’ would have to be provided for them from the clandestine sources available to the CIA once they knew what they would require for the extraction. 

As he turned off the ignition, Jim looked over at his young guide, noting the tense, set expression even as Blair tried gamely to grin back at him. “You holding up OK, Chief?” he asked gently, even though the urgency of the situation precluded making any exceptions in respect of his inexperienced companion. He couldn’t afford to be distracted from his mission, but there was no harm in offering the kid a comforting word before they went in. 

However, since they had been practicing using their link at every opportunity during the paltry couple of days since their bonding, they were at least at the stage where they were able to communicate their emotions and desires relatively easily, and thus Jim knew for sure that Blair was bound and determined to do his best by Jim despite his fear. 

“I’ll be OK, Jim, I promise!” Blair replied firmly, even though he knew that his physiological responses were betraying him to sentinel senses. But there was no way he wanted to jeopardise Jim’s safety by admitting his very real desire to run away screaming, so he smiled again and reached out a hand to pat Jim’s knee. Only to have said appendage quickly covered by Jim’s larger, warm one as the sentinel offered him a reassuring squeeze. 

“OK, then, Guide! Let’s get this over with!” the bigger man growled, and they both left the car to approach the embassy, Jim’s senses on full alert as Blair surreptitiously placed a warm palm on his back to ground him. 

As soon as they reached the embassy entrance, Costello was there to greet them, quietly ushering them inside as a couple of his underlings kept watch. They quickly by-passed the metal detector and Blair was interested to see the uniformed guard there immediately avert his eyes at the group’s approach, his expression inscrutable as he deliberately ignored their presence. He had obviously been well-briefed, as apparently had the other members of staff and security present, and Blair was relieved to see it. No questions or impediments were forthcoming, and the small group briskly crossed the well-manicured, grass-covered area which separated the main building from the diplomatic residences. 

In no time at all, they had reached a good-sized, beautifully maintained building that seemed to comprise of several luxurious apartments, and they entered a marble-tiled, spacious foyer, complete with uniformed concierge. Costello greeted the man, and then led his small party to the elevators. They rose to the third floor and took a left down the corridor towards the back of the building, heading for the end door where an armed guard stood. Blair had a passing thought that Barclay’s position perhaps didn’t warrant being accommodated in the larger, first floor front apartments, but once inside, he saw that even this one wasn’t too shabby. Following closely behind Jim, he looked around him, impressed by the pristine and tasteful décor, artwork and ornaments. He suspected that a lot of the _objets d’art_ probably came with the apartment, but it was a pretty luxurious home-from-home anyway as far as he was concerned. 

Crossing the first reception room, they were led into what appeared to be a very comfortably appointed and good sized office-cum-den, in which several people were busily occupied. While a young woman tapped away at the keyboard of what appeared to be some sort of high-tech surveillance system with multiple screens, another man talked softly into a cell phone while two heavily armed men stood guard. Yet another man was working diligently on a state-of-the-art laptop, and in the midst of the activity, another figure sat in silence on a leather Chesterfield loveseat, staring into space, apparently oblivious to his companions. 

Costello approached the seated man, whose attention snapped back into focus as he rose quickly to his feet. “Have you heard anything? Any news?” His anxiety was genuine and both Jim and Blair studied him carefully, from somewhat different perspectives. 

Ronald Barclay was a trim, middle aged man of around six feet in height, whose upright bearing bore testament to his military past. Although he was superficially in control of his physical and emotional responses, it was with a considerable effort, as betrayed by the faint tremors in the clenched fists at his sides and the trace of fear lurking in his grey eyes, one of which twitched sporadically with a slight, involuntary tic at the corner. Costello offered a brief smile as he replied apologetically, “No sir. Nothing yet, I’m afraid, Mr Barclay. We still have no solid leads, unless you have been able to come up with anything new?” 

This time Blair tensed a little, as he was sure he saw a flash of guilt in the man’s eyes, and he knew that Jim must have noted it also. But Barclay replied in the negative, so he realised that they would need to question him at greater length after all. And their opportunity came immediately as Costello turned to introduce them, his polite but firm tone brooking no argument. 

“Mr Barclay, these two gentlemen are here to help us. Their names are irrelevant, as I’m sure you understand, but suffice it to say that they are skilled in what they do. They have been briefed as far as possible, but they need to ask you a few questions – and to hear from your own lips your thoughts about who might have abducted your family, and why.” 

Barclay looked slightly mulish for an instant, but covered it quickly as he offered Jim and Blair a forced smile. “Yes, of course, Agent Costello. Anything to help,” he added somewhat insincerely, then he sat down again, indicating the sofa opposite. “Please, make yourselves comfortable, gentlemen.” 

Jim and Blair sat side by side, with Blair pressed up as closely as he could without providing any suggestion of impropriety. He knew that Barclay hadn’t been told of their sentinel and guide status so that the man would have no reason to suspect that he was effectively undergoing a sensory interrogation. He could tell that Jim was focussing his senses on the man, grounded by Blair’s presence, and Blair concentrated on trying to use his newly enhanced empathic skills to ‘read’ Barclay’s emotional responses. He felt a brief, reassuring tingle of comfort and support from Jim through their link, and then Jim began, his tone respectful but commanding nonetheless. 

“Mr Barclay, we’re truly sorry for your predicament, but as I’m sure you know, time is of the essence if we’re to locate your family, especially as there has been no ransom demand. I know you’ll have been over this several times already, but we need to hear it for ourselves, from the top. It’s just possible that something might come to light that has been overlooked before, sir.” 

Barclay pursed his lips, but then sighed in resignation as he answered, prompted gently as appropriate as he was led through everything from a quick but thorough run-down of his role at the embassy and the connections he had made, through to the kidnap itself. Jim left nothing out, including enquiring how Barclay explained his wife and daughter’s meetings with Carlos Sandoval, which Barclay insisted were purely chance encounters. But both Jim and Blair in their separate ways were certain he was lying about that. And he was most definitely lying, despite his steady voice and outwardly calm exterior when he insisted that there was no particular reason for him to believe that Sandoval was behind the kidnapping. He relaxed visibly when Jim nodded and exchanged a glance with Blair, apparently accepting his assertion, only to be stunned when the bigger man fixed him once again with a cold, steady gaze. 

“Are you sure about that, sir? So what else did he threaten you with, Mr Barclay? Did he approach you first, or were you already investigating him? What does he expect to gain by this? Your cooperation in getting further unwanted interest in his criminal activities dropped? You get your family back in one piece if you look the other way and let his political aspirations carry on unchecked? Surely you can’t believe that!” 

Now Barclay was gaping at them, looking from one to the other as he shook his head in denial. “Yes! _No!_ I _don’t_ know who is behind this, I tell you! It’s not only Carlos Sandoval under investigation. It could be anyone!” 

It was Blair who acted then, his empathy telling him that the man was genuinely afraid of the consequences of admitting his real beliefs. Leaning forward, he fixed the now shaking man with a gentle and understanding gaze, his voice compassionate and persuasive as he made his plea. “Mr Barclay, sir, we do understand why you don’t want to point the finger at someone like Carlos Sandoval. You’re desperately afraid that he will kill your wife and daughter without a second thought just because he can. And because he thinks he can get away with it. It’s blackmail, pure and simple, and he’s undoubtedly gotten away with it many times before. But we’re asking you to trust us, sir. Trust that we can extract your family safely before they can get hurt. But we need to know for sure where to look. _Is_ it Sandoval’s compound, Mr Barclay?” 

The older man closed his eyes for a moment, his shoulders slumping in defeat. When he opened them again, it was Blair to whom he addressed his words, although they were meant for everyone present. “Yes, young man, you’re right. I do believe they’re being held in Sandoval’s stronghold, and I’m sure he thinks that I’ll be in his pocket if he frees them unharmed. But I’m not naïve, son, despite what you and your friend must think. I realise that I’m just a pawn in his larger game, if potentially useful, and if he thinks he’ll get a better response from killing my family as an example to others, he’ll do it without a second thought. I truly don’t know what got into Marian, my wife, when she agreed to meet with that man. What she hoped to gain? I only found out the day before they were due to return to the US when she confessed to seeing him. But in spite of that, I love her anyway, and I adore my daughter. So please, get them back! Get them back for me!” and he lowered his head into his hands and sobbed, a broken man with whom Blair had every sympathy. Reaching over to squeeze the man’s shoulder briefly in support, he turned to look at Jim, and then they both rose to their feet, nodding to Costello as the other man jerked his head, indicating that they follow him again. 

Once out of the den, Costello faced them, his expression grim but satisfied. “Thanks, guys. Your combined interrogation techniques are greatly appreciated, but now we know for sure, it’s time to pull our plan of action together. There’s no time to lose, so I’ll let you get back to the rest of your team, and will be in contact again as soon as I can pull all the relevant information together. And once you’ve checked out the target location, I’ll make sure you get whatever equipment you need to carry out the job, OK?”  


\--------------------  


**Later that night, in Jim and Blair’s hotel room:**  


Jim and Blair lay cuddled together in the queen-sized bed, having finally enjoyed the luxury of physically reconnecting after a gruelling day. Although there was no penetration involved on this occasion, Jim had made gentle love to his guide, knowing that Blair needed the reassurance of his sentinel’s trust and support even though Jim had every reason to be proud of the young man’s performance thus far. It had been Blair’s positive influence that had broken through Barclay’s defences, and he had grounded Jim more than adequately when the sentinel had needed him. Likewise, he had listened carefully and offered somewhat tentative, but useful comments and suggestions during the intensive planning session they and the rest of the team had carried out that afternoon. Now, finally exhausted, he lay deeply asleep in Jim’s arms, face snuggled into the bigger man’s neck, and Jim couldn’t help but smile fondly at the soft snuffles and twitches coming from the relaxed body. 

However, although physically tired himself, Jim wasn’t ready to shut down just yet, and let his thoughts run free as he contemplated the upcoming mission; not without a certain amount of concern, truth be told. Certainly Barney Costello had been as good as his word, providing as much in the way of information about and schematics for the compound they intended to infiltrate as possible, as well as available satellite imagery of the location and terrain. He hadn’t balked at the comprehensive list of equipment he had been presented with either, promising to produce what was required quickly, efficiently and surreptitiously by the following day. 

No, Jim couldn’t complain about the local cooperation he had received, but he did wonder if his superiors had underestimated the scale of the task he had been set. A six man team, even at full fighting strength, was decidedly disadvantaged considering the firepower and extent of the physical obstacles they were likely to encounter according to Costello’s information, and Jim couldn’t help but worry about his and Blair’s still relatively raw and untried partnership. For sure their mental connection was improving by leaps and bounds all the time, such that he was now completely assured of Blair’s dogged determination and commitment to do his best for both Jim and the team, but for all that he had never yet seen active service, or even fired a gun in anger. But Jim also knew, thanks to their link, that Blair cared for him deeply as a person also, although Jim wouldn’t presume to call it ‘love’. Possibly more along the lines of hero worship, or perhaps even some strange variation of Stockholm Syndrome, but whatever it was, Blair was too unsure of himself to articulate his feelings out loud. _Probably thinks I’ll laugh at him,_ Jim thought sadly, _even though he should be able to tell that I wouldn’t do such a thing. He just hasn’t the confidence to push any further into my thoughts than he thinks he ought to go. Kid’s got no self-esteem at all, but after what he’s been through, it’s hardly surprising. His early life probably hasn’t helped either, let alone what that bastard Murphy did to him. But if we get the chance once this mission’s done, I’m going to work on him and his lack of confidence. He deserves no less from me._

And on that somewhat startling but surprisingly comforting thought, Jim was finally able to let go and follow his guide into much-needed sleep.  



	10. And So To War

**Chapter 10: And So To War:**  


**Early the following morning:**  


Jim settled himself more comfortably as he lay prone beneath the cover of the thick undergrowth of their chosen vantage point, the better to observe the large compound spread out far below them. Beside him, Blair murmured a stream of almost sub-vocal nonsense in order to ground him so that he could use his enhanced vision to its fullest extent. Although they had only just arrived, he wanted to waste no time in getting a first impression of what they were likely to come up against, although over the next few hours he intended to intensify his sensory scan so that his team would be as well prepared as possible for the upcoming rescue attempt, which they intended to carry out late that night. 

Just before dawn, they had left their hotel to pile into a battered local ‘tour bus’ of the type commonly hired out to cheaper travel companies; for all the world as if they were simply a disparate bunch of tourists intent on taking a guided day trip to the Canaima National Park. However, once the anonymous vehicle had chugged its unhurried way out of the city, the men had quickly checked over all the equipment stashed inside and changed into appropriate gear for their mission. They had then been dropped off at a pre-arranged spot on the mountain road in order to traverse the thickly forested slopes until they reached a suitable location from which they could survey Sandoval’s compound. It had been hard going, but nothing the ultra-fit team couldn’t manage easily; with Blair being perhaps something of an exception. He realised quickly enough that he wasn’t in anything like the same condition as his companions, but he slogged his way determinedly in their footsteps, not wanting to delay them because of his lack of physical fitness. And once they had settled down in the covering undergrowth of their chosen location, he turned his attention to the vital role he knew he had to play, which was grounding his sentinel for an extended, exhaustive sensory scan. 

As Jim studied the compound, the first thought that occurred to him was that Sanchez hadn’t been joking when he had described the place as a luxurious stronghold. The dwelling itself was a sprawling example of unashamed, conspicuous wealth surrounded by extensive, elaborate gardens and grounds complete with impressive fountains and statuary. Outbuildings which could be anything from staff accommodation and garaging to storerooms or workshops where his drug-dealing ‘assembly line’ might well be located were also well built and maintained, sympathetically situated out of direct line of sight from where the main structure’s huge picture windows must provide a magnificent, panoramic view of the valley below and the far distant city and sea beyond it. The whole site’s high perimeter wall was bounded by a further high security fence, both obviously well-guarded by patrolling, armed men and covered by state-of-the-art CCTV cameras, such that the space between the two barriers effectively formed a ‘no man’s land’. Over the next few hours, Jim knew it was up to him to sound out the security systems as well as determining the exact number of guards and other personnel in the compound, but first and foremost he had to locate exactly where the women were being held. With such a small force, obviously there was no question of a frontal attack on the compound, so he had to make certain that they targeted a precise location by the quickest, quietest and most accessible route; stealth being the order of the day in this instance. 

It wasn’t going to be an easy task to say the least, but he had confidence in Blair’s ability to ground him even as his own confidence in his senses was growing, so he set himself to begin a full and meticulous sensory scan, starting with sending out his hearing. And was quickly rewarded as he heard female voices raised in fear and anger, coming from one wing of the main dwelling. Zeroing in on the sounds, he quickly pinpointed the room in which they were being held, at least at present, and listened to the two women arguing and pleading with at least two men, judging by their heartbeats, one of whom was presumably Sandoval himself. And that supposition proved correct as the conversation progressed. 

First female voice: “Carlos! You promised! You said that you meant us no harm! That you loved me! How could you do this? Ronald isn’t a threat to you – he’s only a minor player with no real influence on anything! Just let us go, and we’ll say no more about it! Or at least let my daughter go. She’s innocent of all this!” 

“Marian, Marian!” Sandoval’s unctuous voice responded patronisingly, the smug, self-satisfied tone enough to set Jim’s teeth on edge. “You have absolutely no idea of your husband’s value to me, chica! I know you’ve told me _endlessly_ that you have no interest in his role here, but I assure you that he’s more than just a retired army officer rewarded with a sinecure. He has the potential to be a real thorn in my side, even if a relatively small one; and it would be far more convenient for me to secure his cooperation than make an enemy of him and his embassy colleagues. You and your beautiful daughter are simply a means to that end, chica, as long as your dear Ronald does as he’s told. And I have thoroughly enjoyed _your_ ‘cooperation’, my dear,” he added salaciously. 

“Of course,” Sandoval continued, his tone becoming menacing. “If he decides to defy me, I’ll be forced to make an example of you both. Such a pity! And of course I shall be most effusive in my condolences, because you must surely realise that I shall never be officially accused of any involvement in your sad demise!” 

A second, younger-sounding female voice chimed in then. “Mom? What does he mean? Were you _sleeping_ with him? I thought you were just playing along, doing what Dad would expect you to do, making nice with the locals! I _trusted_ you, and so did Dad! How _could_ you!” 

“Oh, darling, I’m so sorry!” her mother replied tearfully. “It was never meant to be anything more than a fling! A brief, enjoyable affair between two consenting adults! Was it, Carlos? I mean, it was for me anyway. I thought we were just enjoying each other’s company and a shared passion for the theatre and the opera! Your father’s always too busy to take me anywhere but to stuffy official functions, and I’ve been so _bored!_ But how could I have been so gullible? So _stupid?!”_

“Whatever, chica!” and Sandoval sounded bored now. “Your Ronald will soon be contacted via a third party who will explain my terms. If he is sensible, you will be freed, on condition that you keep your pretty mouths shut, of course. Because you both know what will happen to you if you even **think** of betraying me! But if he refuses, then I regret that you will have to be disposed of anyway. _No one_ opposes me with impunity!” 

Jim heard him leave, and then dialled back his hearing so he could report to his men, who listened intently as he repeated the conversation word for word. 

Shaking him head in disgust, Iain Sturgis muttered, “Jeez, boss, how could she be so self-centred and careless? She’s dropped herself and her daughter right in it, just for the sake of a bit of excitement and some ‘extra-curricular’ bed-warming! Not to mention compromising her husband’s position and future.” 

“Hey, Loot, she may have had good cause,” Marvin Danilo murmured reprovingly, as always the voice of reason. “For all we know the Barclays might have a crap relationship!” 

“Yeah, well, that’s as may be, Marv,” Ramirez joined in irritably. “But she should know better how to pick her marks. Especially in a posting like Caracas. They were never going to get out of this alive, whatever Sandoval said. It’s just a matter of how and when!” 

“Whatever, guys,” Jim snapped, immediately curtailing the discussion and focussing their attention again. “At least we know for sure that they really are there, and I’ll keep checking on them periodically to make sure they stay in the same room. It’s going to take a bit of time and effort, but I’m going to continue with trying to work out how many actual bodies we’re dealing with, and if I can, I’ll try to figure out the percentage that is likely to pose us real problems. I think there are probably quite a few down there who are just employed as manual labour in the outbuildings and main house, whether voluntarily or not, but it’s the number and location of armed guards, gang members and Sandoval’s close protection bodyguards we need to know about. 

“Once I’ve done that, I’ll use the senses to check out the security systems, and once we’ve decided on our point of entry, you can use your binoculars to help me out with determining the perimeter guards’ regular patrol sequence and the direction of the security cameras. By late afternoon we should be in a position to finalise our intended plan. And then we’ll move in at nightfall. I want to be in position to begin our infiltration of the compound by midnight, OK? And let’s hope that Sandoval goes to bed at a reasonable hour, and doesn’t decide to hold a wild party, or we’ll be completely screwed!” 

As one, his team nodded and murmured their assent, and the surveillance began in earnest. It was hard going, and at intervals during the day, Jim pulled back his senses and took a necessary break; resting his aching head on Blair’s lap and relaxing under the young guide’s soothing touch as he massaged Jim’s temples. Blair also seized the opportunity to doze when he could, unaware of the fond and approving glances of the rest of the team as they watched over the sentinel and guide pair. Between them, they were indeed becoming a force to be reckoned with, and the others recognised the fact and rejoiced in it.  


\-------------------------------  


As dusk approached, the team gathered their equipment together and prepared to move out, double-checking their surroundings to make sure they had left as little trace as possible of their temporary occupation. It was SOP to take any trash with them, and bury human waste, but once that was done, they were good to go. They would have the use of top-of-the-range night vision goggles; apart from Jim, of course, whose sentinel sight would still be better than his men’s even in the dark; and set out at a steady pace. Jim intended to find a suitable location as close to the compound as possible without any chance of detection, from whence they would do their last-minute preparation for the operation, which Jim wanted to carry out as soon after midnight as possible. As luck would have it, there was virtually no moon, so although it made the going a little more difficult for his team, they could always rely on him to give advance warning of obstacles either man-made or otherwise, and they appreciated the extra covering darkness. 

They made good progress, although Blair had to concentrate hard on not losing touch with his sentinel, on whose person he in particular was relying so as not to get left behind. The terrain was rough, and he had no illusions that he would be able to find his way out of the forest should he find himself alone. It wasn’t that he believed Jim could forget him under normal circumstances, but as their leader Jim’s responsibility was for the whole mission, so it was up to Blair not to compromise it by getting himself lost through carelessness or inexperience. 

Eventually Jim called a halt, satisfied that they were close enough, yet still undetectable, and they settled down quietly again to renew their watch, their dark clothing and blackened faces blending with the thick, shadowy undergrowth in which they were huddled. Once again Jim sent out his senses, using sight and hearing to check out the area and reassure himself that they were still good to go. At his side, Blair instinctively used touch and smell to ground him, pressing close so that Jim could both feel the heat of his firm young body and breathe in his guide’s enticing scent, enhanced as it was with honest sweat even if soured somewhat by the tang of understandable nervousness. 

Their intended point of entry was a small doorway in the wall to the rear of the property facing the forested mountainside upon which they were presently hidden. Throughout the extent of their earlier observation, it had appeared to be little used and relatively lightly guarded, possibly because Sandoval hadn’t seriously considered the possibility of any worthwhile attack coming from such difficult and inhospitable terrain. There were still CCTV cameras periodically sweeping the area, and a powerful, motion-activated security light above the door itself, but the armed guards who made up the foot patrol on the inner wall walk were relaxed and seemingly inattentive. And the team had already established that there would be a regularly occurring window of opportunity when the guards were at the furthest point of their patrol and the cameras were turned away from the immediate area of the door, and that was when they would spring into action. The outer fence was alarmed, but Jim had already determined where the control box was, and was confident that he would be able to disarm it with Blair’s backup. Once the alarm was deactivated, they would use wire cutters to get through the outer fence, but would need to lie low until the cameras turned away again. They would then quickly cross the open area under cover of darkness and disable the lock on the door, all before the guards returned and the cameras swept the area once more. 

Once inside the compound, the plan was to split into two groups, with Danilo and Ramirez heading for what they had identified as the main garage block, there to plant small but very effective explosive charges which would be set off to both act as a diversion to cover their escape as well as disabling most of the vehicles within. 

Meanwhile, Jim, Blair, Iain and ‘Pepper’ Saltmarsh would break into the wing of the main house where the hostages were located, hopefully to grab the women and make their escape before their presence became known. If all went to plan, the extraction should be carried out quickly and quietly with minimum casualties, such that by the time the garage blew, they would be already out and on their way to freedom up the mountainside again. The chaos ensuing from the explosions should delay any serious attempt at pursuit, and once Jim had called in their status to Costello, he would be given the coordinates for the spot where they would be met by a small contingent of trustworthy cops led by Lt Sanchez. The women would be given over into their care, and Jim and his team would melt away like ghosts into the night, to rendezvous at another location for extraction and repatriation to the US as if they had never been there. 

Unfortunately, even the best laid plans can go awry as they were well aware, and sadly this time theirs was no exception.  



	11. Living After Midnight

**Chapter 11: Living After Midnight:**  


As the team waited silently for zero hour, to Blair time seemed to drag interminably. Although he was desperately anxious, his body vibrating with tension and nerves as tautly-strung as piano wires, he still wanted – needed – to get on with it. To allow his adrenalin-fuelled energy to burst forth, even if it was to carry him towards danger and perhaps death. This forced inactivity was sheer torture, and he envied the apparent patience and calm demeanour of his companions even though he was aware that internally they weren’t as imperturbable as they looked. But they were consummate professionals, and right then he could have done with a little of their hard-earned experience to tide him over for the next few fraught hours. When Jim grasped his forearm, offering him a small smile and tacit comfort, Blair responded with a tiny grin, grateful for his sentinel’s understanding even as it strengthened his resolve to get through this to the best of his ability. 

And then suddenly – too suddenly now – it was time, and Jim gave the signal to move out. 

From Jim’s point of view, although he was concentrating fiercely on the upcoming mission, he couldn’t help but spare a thought for his young guide. He would have been able feel the kid’s tension even without sentinel senses, Blair was so tightly-strung, but because of their link he could also discern the stubborn determination beneath the fear. The young man was so far out of his comfort zone it wasn’t even funny, but still he stayed, his unswerving loyalty to Jim and his comrades humbling to witness, and the knowledge strengthened Jim’s own resolve to do right by his guide if he possibly could. 

But that couldn’t be until after this mission was completed one way or another, and that was what he needed to focus on now, so he deliberately pushed all other thoughts aside as he gave the signal to move out. Time for them to do what they were trained for, and he prayed to whatever deity might be listening that it would be enough. 

As they crept closer to the first boundary fence, hugging the shadows and pausing every so often to check the position of the CCTV cameras and the patrolling guards, Jim signalled for them to halt as he studied the placement of the security light situated above the door they were aiming to use. Although taking it out might possibly alert some sharp-eared person inside the compound, it had to be done well in advance of their entry, because they had no idea how sensitive it was. They were hardly going to be able to cross a floodlit no-man’s-land unnoticed after all. And of course Jim was the obvious choice to do it, so he carefully took aim, the silencer on his rifle reducing the shot to a soft ‘phut’ as the glass shattered with a distant, tinkling sound. 

For long moments they waited to see if there was any reaction from within, but apparently they were in luck, and the guards were too far away to have noticed anything untoward. Once Jim was satisfied that they were good to go, they silently moved onwards, only to pause again on his signal as they approached the control box for the fence’s alarm system. Again the others hunkered down while Jim crept forward, but this time Blair stuck to his back like glue. The guide’s grounding presence would be vital if Jim was to be able to deactivate the control panel as quickly as possible. 

Concentrating hard with sentinel-sensitive touch, hearing and sight, Jim put all his considerable expertise to good use, and within a couple of minutes the alarm system was down. Immediately, Ramirez and Danilo moved forward and used heavy-duty wire cutters to quickly create a big enough flap in the chain-link fencing to allow them to pass through with minimum fuss. However, as they had foreseen, the team had to wait for another pass of the cameras and the patrol before moving again, grateful for the deep shadows in a hollow just beyond the fenceline which concealed them adequately enough. 

Once more in the clear, they swiftly but stealthily crossed the open space to the door, where they crouched in the shadow of the wall while Jim made short work of cracking the code of the electronic keypad controlling the lock. They were in, and the rescue mission was truly underway. 

Although the ornamental gardens surrounding the main house were illuminated by strategically placed and obviously expensive lighting fixtures, there was still plenty of cover to be had between the statuary and the garden features, both manufactured and cultivated, and the men used these to their advantage as they split into two groups. Danilo and Ramirez slipped away in the direction of the garage, while the others crept towards the wing where the women were apparently sleeping. Jim’s hearing was extended to its fullest extent as he strained to locate both their targets and anyone who might be in their way, all of them more than relieved to see that most of the lights in the main dwelling were off, suggesting that Sandoval had indeed retired for the night. Of course, there were a few other lights still on in various other buildings, and distant strains of muffled music could be heard from across the compound where the servants’ accommodation blocks were situated, but it appeared that for the most part they were alone in the grounds apart from the armed guards on night duty. 

Approaching the corner of the building, Jim suddenly held up his hand, and he and his team shrank back against the wall as two armed figures crossed their path. Chatting quietly and smoking, the men never knew what hit them as Iain Sturgis and Pepper Saltmarsh took them out silently, dragging the bodies over to the nearest shadows to hide them. Blair didn’t even want to ask if the men were dead or just unconscious; he was still shaken at the sudden violence, even though he knew it was necessary. 

At the nearest entrance to the women’s quarters, Jim once again used his skills to disarm the lock, wryly amused that Sandoval should have elected to use state-of-the-art electronic keypads instead of regular locks, since for a sentinel they were far easier to disable. Slipping inside, the four men crept down the dimly-lit corridor in the direction Jim indicated, all of them on high alert as they watched and listened for any sign of activity. A CCTV camera high on the wall above an archway leading to another corridor at right angles to theirs was quickly put out of action, and when Jim jerked his head, they instantly followed him around the corner, knowing that it was clear. 

However, before they took another right, which would lead them directly to the captives’ bedroom, Jim held up his hand in warning. As expected, there was an armed guard sitting outside the door who would need to be disabled first. Grinning fiercely, ‘Pepper’ raised a quizzical eyebrow, tacitly requesting permission to act, and at Jim’s nod of assent, he coughed gently. As expected, the guard instantly demanded who was there, and when no one answered, he moved carefully towards where they waited around the corner. Jim could hear the hammering of the man’s heart and smell the fear rolling off him, and then the instant an arm appeared, clutching an AK47 in a white-knuckled grip, Pepper was on him, snapping the man’s neck before he had a chance to call out or fire off a shot. Blair’s face was pasty white, and he had to force himself not to gag in sick horror at the corpse’s lolling head and a glimpse of a face frozen forever in a rictus of shock and terror. But Jim gave him no time to brood as he was pulled around the corner with the rest of them to run to the bedroom door, pausing briefly again while Jim made sure that the only two occupants were both asleep. 

While Sturgis and Saltmarsh stood guard outside, Jim and Blair entered quietly, crossing the large, well-appointed and dimly lit room to the alcove where the women slept in twin beds. Quickly glancing around him, Blair thought incidentally that they hadn’t exactly been deprived of creature comforts during their captivity, but that was hardly the point. As Jim moved to stand beside the older woman’s bed, Blair moved to the daughter’s, and at Jim’s nod, he placed a careful hand over the girl’s mouth, giving her a gentle shake to wake her up as Jim did the same for her mother. Not unsurprisingly, both women reacted in shock, eyes flying wide with fear as they were jerked into wakefulness, but when Blair smiled gently at the young face beneath his hand and put a finger to his lips to request silence, she settled remarkably quickly as he whispered, “Please keep quiet, honey. We’re here to get you out of here, OK? But you have to be real quiet, and get dressed quickly, OK? Can you do that for me, honey?” 

When he felt her nod immediately, he carefully raised his hand, backing off a little so she could get out of bed. She did so swiftly and gracefully, smiling shyly at Blair as he watched her reach into the closet next to her bed to grab some clothes, grateful that she didn’t even question him as she slipped into jeans and a black, turtle necked sweater, apparently knowing without being told that she should wear something dark and sensible. He half-turned away to give her a little privacy while she dressed hurriedly, relieved that Carly, as he had learned was her given name, appeared to be as level-headed a young woman as she was pretty, and not given to hysterics. 

On the other hand, her mother wasn’t being quite so cooperative, and was trying to mumble something behind Jim’s hand, despite his admonishing finger and hissed warning. In fact, it was the daughter who came to his aid, whispering angrily, “Stop it, Mom! Just shut up and let’s get out of here! They’re here to help us, so move it!” 

Marian Barclay frowned darkly at her daughter’s tone, but subsided, and when Jim moved his hand she muttered irritably, “All right. All right, Carly! I’m coming. Just stop with the bossiness, OK?” 

Once with the programme, she also wasted no time in getting dressed, and both of them pulled on comfortable high-tops much to Jim’s silent approval. As soon as they were ready, he held up his hand to ask for silence again, and they opened the door, slipping out and heading off down the corridor towards the entrance with Sturgis and Pepper Saltmarsh bringing up the rear. 

They reached the exit without being challenged, and crept outside, coming to a halt in the shadows at the end of the building. Jim peered around the corner checking for inquisitive guards, but saw nothing. Addressing the group quietly, he explained quickly and succinctly what the next moves were. 

“OK, ladies, listen up. We have to cross to a door in the far wall, and it’s fairly open ground, OK? So we’ll stick together and try to keep as much in the shadows as possible. There will be an explosion across the other side of the compound in approximately five minutes’ time, which will hopefully distract anyone from taking an interest in us. So when I say ‘move’, don’t argue! Swift and silent, right?” 

Both women nodded quickly, although not unsurprisingly they were wide-eyed and trembling with nervous anticipation. However, neither of them questioned him, and when Danilo and Ramirez silently materialised to join the group, they remained commendably quiet. Danilo nodded meaningfully at Jim’s tacit enquiry, indicating that the explosives had been set to blow. Jim checked his watch, seeing that there were two minutes left before the charges went off, and prepared to move out as soon as he was sure the coast was clear. 

Blair swallowed hard as he watched his sentinel intently. It all seemed to be going to plan, and he prayed silently and fervently that the goddess would be generous enough to get them out as safely and relatively easily as they got in. 

A moment later he got his answer, and it wasn’t the one that he’d wished for. Fate apparently hadn’t done with them after all, and their plan was about to be disrupted for the most improbable and unforeseen reason. 

Jim had already ascertained that Sandoval didn’t use guard dogs, but unfortunately he hadn’t taken into consideration the possibility that the cartel boss might own a pet. A large, pampered standard poodle, in fact, which was now desperate to do its business, thanks to the unsuitable titbits his fond but ignorant owner had been feeding him at dinner. Naturally, Sandoval wouldn’t bestir himself to do anything so disagreeable as to take his own gastrically-challenged pet out to the garden in the early hours, so a weary maid had been rousted from her bed to do the honours for him. 

Approaching the garden from the other end of the building to where the group huddled, the dog suddenly scented them, and began to bark loudly, dragging at its leash to reach its target. At almost the same instant, the maid spotted them and screamed, and within moments chaos reigned as Sandoval’s men seemed to converge from all directions. There was no chance of a silent escape now, and Jim was forced to run for it, his men laying down covering fire as they went. Jim and Sturgis took point, while Blair and Danilo stayed close to the women, and Ramirez and Pepper Saltmarsh brought up the rear. The ensuing running battle was savage and bloody, with Jim and his men taking down several armed men as soon as they appeared, but things were looking grim for the team when at last the charges went off, and explosions wracked the compound as the fuel tanks in the vehicles inside the now blazing garage began to blow. Confused and panic-stricken, most of the armed men broke off and ran towards the fiercely burning building, perhaps hoping to save some of the vehicles, or at least to try and stop the fire from spreading, but a few held their ground and continued to harry the retreating fugitives. 

Jim and Sturgis reached the door, and turned to usher the rest of the group through, keeping up a constant rate of fire to cover their exit. The women rushed through, followed by Danilo, but just as Blair reached it, there was a cry from behind him, and he looked over his shoulder to see Ramirez go down. He didn’t even stop to think as he turned back, unheeding of Jim’s shouted command to halt. As he reached the fallen man’s side, Ramirez lurched awkwardly to his feet, a sickly grin on his handsome face. 

“S’OK, Burg. Just got me in the shoulder. I’m OK, kiddo,” and he threw an arm around Blair’s willing shoulders as the pair continued to stagger towards the door as fast as they could. 

Bringing up the rear, Pepper Saltmarsh cursed fluently as he covered their retreat, snarling his defiance as more gunmen broke cover behind him. However, it was one of the perimeter guards who actually took him down, finally getting a clear shot from the wallwalk before he too was blasted into oblivion by a furious and vengeful sentinel. 

Blair didn’t know what to do. He needed to get Ramirez out of the door, but also wanted to go back for Saltmarsh. As Danilo reappeared and took charge of Ramirez, Blair actually started back despite Jim’s angry shout, only to waver indecisively as Pepper yelled at him, “Go, Burg! Get out and take care of Jesus! You can’t do anything for me! Just _go,_ kiddo!” 

A strong hand grabbed his bicep in a grip of iron, and the next moment he was bodily thrown through the door and it was slammed shut behind him. Jim’s furious voice in his ear ordered him to follow the rest of the group as they sprinted for the outer fence, and with a sob, he knew he had to obey. 

As for Jim, he delayed just long enough to listen with a sinking heart to what was happening within. John Saltmarsh was laughing now, and muttering through teeth clenched in agony. “Come and get me, assholes! Spray and pray man. Spray and pray!” 

The next moment there was another, lesser explosion, followed by an eery silence broken only by a few moans of pain, and as he ran to catch up with the others, Jim knew exactly what Saltmarsh had done. He had blown himself up rather than be taken alive, and ensured by his sacrifice that his comrades and their hostages escaped. 

Greater love hath no man indeed.  



	12. Going Home

**Chapter 12: Going Home:**  


As the small group forged their way across the no man’s land between the boundary fences and onwards and upwards towards the beckoning comfort of the forested mountainside, each was concentrating on reaching its dark promise of security whilst listening out for any sounds of pursuit. Not unnaturally, the two women hostages were fully focussed on escape, with no idea of what had gone on behind them. However, for the rest of the team, their thoughts were somewhat different. Jim knew that each of his men, as a consummate professional, was always aware of the possibility of serious injury or death during such covert operations, as was any serving man or woman. But when such deaths occurred, they all knew that, despite their personal grief, they had to concentrate on completing their missions before they could allow themselves the luxury of mourning their fallen comrades as they were due. Thus it was on this occasion, and Jim recognised the grim, set expressions of his remaining team members as they ran, knowing that they would all do their duty until such time as they were released. And then they would both mourn the death and celebrate the life of their good friend and comrade. 

Not so with Blair, however, who had never before had to face up to such a prosaic acceptance of loss, even if it was a learned and necessary mental protection against despair. For him, the pain of Pepper’s death burned within him, his empathy having enabled him, for better or for worse, to at least partially experience the fallen man’s last thoughts and emotions. So he ran on, tears streaming unnoticed down his cheeks as he relived again and again the moment of John’s demise. 

As for Jim, he urged his small party on relentlessly, needing to put as much distance between them and the compound as possible. As he ran, he too listened carefully for any sounds of pursuit, relieved that so far there was nothing to suggest that Sandoval’s remaining men were in any condition to do so. In that respect, Pepper’s self-sacrifice had most probably done the trick, but no one in his team would have wanted or expected it. But internally Jim was seething with rage and indignation, despite his cold, determinedly business-like expression and unswerving focus on the whole group’s situation. He was certainly angry at the waste of a good man and great comrade, who had been with Jim ever since Jim made Captain three years previously and was given command of his own specialist covert ops team. Yes, like the others he knew the dangers that they all faced, and also knew that it would be difficult to replace John’s familiar face and undisputed ability. But it would have to be done if the team was to function at full strength in the future, assuming that they were still going to get out of this without any more casualties. 

And that thought made him grind his teeth in silent rage as he contemplated the young man running doggedly at his side; a young man with whom Jim was absolutely furious, but only because of his fear and love for him. And need, truth be told, because he already couldn’t imagine life either as a sentinel or a man without Blair’s presence. 

What in the world had the kid been thinking? Or had he been reacting purely instinctively? Jim relived the moment when Blair had turned back to go to Ramirez’s aid, his courage and compassion instantly overriding his sense of self-preservation. And then the little fool had nearly done it again when Pepper went down. Jim had known an instant of sheer terror as the kid had tried to go back again, and it was only when he had grabbed him and virtually thrown him out the door to relative safety that he had breathed again. Oh, he was going to have it out with his foolhardy, selfless guide once they were out of danger and back in his territory, for sure. And then he was going to make love to him and hold him as if he’d never let him go. 

They had put a fair distance between themselves and the compound before Jim called a halt and gave everyone a breather while he took stock of their condition. Although Ramirez’s shoulder wound looked messy, it was more a deep gouge where a bullet had clipped his flesh at the edge of the lightweight but very effective Kevlar with which they had all been equipped. Most of his discomfort was due to the other shots that had actually hit him between the shoulder blades, not penetrating, but bruising him badly and knocking the wind out of him. He grinned wryly at Blair as the young man pressed a field dressing to the bloody gash, trying to reassure the kid who looked completely devastated. 

“Thanks, Burg. That’ll do the trick, kiddo. And thanks for your help back there, man. That was over and above, ‘cos I was surely winded there for a minute. You’re a good man, Sandburg.” 

Blair offered him a weak smile. “You’re welcome, Jesus. I’m just glad you’re OK. Not like…” and he stopped abruptly and looked away, fighting against the urge to break down and sob like a baby. His comrades so didn’t need him to melt down now, so he forced back his tears. His self-indulgent grief had no place here. Ramirez patted him comfortingly on the shoulder, then turned away to give him a moment to get himself together again. 

Both Carly and Marion Barclay had held up remarkably well during the forced run, but now looked the worse for wear, especially the older woman. Bedraggled and weary, she smiled briefly and murmured a word of thanks to Marvin Danilo when he offered her a drink of water. She resisted the temptation to drink her fill when he advised her against it, and passed the bottle to Carly. Her daughter also thanked Marvin, but pointedly avoided her mother’s eyes, making it abundantly clear that she hadn’t forgiven the older woman yet. But that wasn’t the team’s problem. Their responsibility ended once they handed the women over to Sanchez and his party, and that was what Jim needed to concentrate on now. 

While Blair was treating Ramirez, and Danilo looked after the women, Iain Sturgis kept watch while Jim called up Costello to advise him of their situation. Costello gave him the GPS coordinates where they could find Sanchez and his party, so they set out again without further delay. Jim didn’t make them run this time, but he didn’t need to urge the women to move as quickly and silently as possible over the difficult terrain. 

The first hint of dawn was lightening the sky when they finally met up with Lt Sanchez, and handed the exhausted women over into his care. Although Carly and Marion both insisted on giving them all a hug, no time was wasted on unnecessary conversation as Jim needed to get his party away and to the other rendezvous point as quickly as possible. They needed to disappear, and do it fast. 

It was Barney Costello himself who met them in a clearing further up the mountain which was just big enough to allow a helicopter to land. When the weary men broke cover, few words were needed as he held his hand out to Jim. “Well done, Ellis. Y’all did good. And I’m sorry for your loss.” 

As Jim shook his hand, he nodded grimly, his eyes shuttered against the pain even as he appreciated the other man’s tacit understanding and sincerity. “Thanks, Costello. And thanks for your help. I think it’ll be a while until Sandoval is up and running again.” 

Costello nodded again. “I think you could be right Ellis. Safe journey, guys!” and he turned on his heel and disappeared into the forest as an Apache helicopter swept in overhead, coming to rest just long enough for Jim and his team to climb on board. As each man buckled in, relieved to be on the first leg of the journey home at last, it took off again and rose above the mountains, leaving the city far behind.  



	13. A Dubious Welcome Home

**Chapter 13: A Dubious Welcome Home:**  


Seated in the noisy, unpressurised transport plane that was ferrying the team back to Ft Findlayson, Jim glanced worriedly yet again at the small, silent figure next to him. As indeed he had been throughout the whole of the return trip, Blair was unnaturally quiet, undoubtedly ‘processing’ everything that had happened. Even so, he had still made the effort to ensure that Jim’s senses weren’t troubled unnecessarily by the discomfort of the flight, grounding the sentinel with touch and a soothing word when needed. His big blue eyes betrayed his grief and pain, as well as conveying a sincere apology for his perceived weakness, and through their link Jim felt his heartfelt gratitude for his sentinel’s comfort and support as they openly held hands throughout the flights. Leaning his head back against the hard headrest, Jim closed his eyes for a moment while he relived their progress thus far. 

Once they had reached the airbase in Florida, they had been allowed to shower and change into fresh BDUs, and had retrieved their dog tags and real IDs from the base commander. However, since they were expected to return to Findlayson a.s.a.p., they had had no time to do more than grab a meal before boarding the transport, carrying nothing with them but the sidearms they had used throughout the mission. Jim knew that Costello’s cleaning teams would already have sanitised the hotel rooms in which they had stayed, and disposed of any trace of personal items left behind. It was SOP for covert ops, and they were all used to it. As far as the authorities in Caracas were concerned, they had never been there, and didn’t exist. 

Throughout the long and noisy flight, the men dozed fitfully, used to the uncomfortable mode of transport, although it was hard on Blair, who didn’t really like flying at the best of times. But he uttered no word of complaint, almost as if he was trying to make himself invisible, and Jim knew he felt ashamed of his behaviour during the mission, uncalled for as that emotion was. He couldn’t wait to get back to base and get the official matters over with. He needed to reconnect with his hurting guide, and reassure him of his place at Jim’s side. 

Certainly he was still going to have to have that ‘talk’ about Blair heedlessly putting himself in harm’s way, but the most important thing was to let the young man know that Jim actually did understand where he was coming from even if he didn’t like it, and that his love and care for his guide remained unchanged nonetheless. It was Blair’s generosity of spirit and big heart that had convinced him to take a chance with Jim after all he’d been through, and Jim knew it and appreciated it more than he could articulate.  


\---------------------------  


Once they had landed at the nearest airbase, they were transferred immediately to Fort Findlayson by road, but even on arrival they knew that they still couldn’t yet seek the beckoning comfort of their quarters. Colonel Masefield would require the customary debrief, and then – and only then – they could disperse and have some well-earned down-time. 

Assembled in Masefield’s office, the travel-weary team gave their reports on the mission and its outcome, keeping their descriptions as succinct and unemotional as possible despite their obvious grief at the loss of their comrade. And to do him credit, Masefield displayed commendable tact and sympathy, as did his ever-present shadow, Lt Blakeway, although to Blair’s mind the emotions he felt from the younger officer were less than genuine. 

With their reports completed, Colonel Masefield brought them up to speed on what he had learned during the thirty six hours or so since their extraction from Venezuela. Apparently Marion and Carly Barclay had flown back to the family home in Maryland almost immediately after they had been returned to the embassy. Nothing was said about the family reunion or the current relationship between husband and wife, but it was assumed that Ronald Barclay would automatically be transferred to a different posting as soon as possible to avoid any embarrassment or possible political fallout, and whether Marion re-joined him or not was anyone’s guess. And in all honesty, Jim could have cared less, although he knew that Blair at least would be feeling for Carly, the undeserving victim of her mother’s thoughtless infidelity. 

As for Carlos Sandoval, satellite imagery showed that the compound had suffered severe damage; the fire having spread to many of the outbuildings and even destroying part of the main house. Although Costello had reported that the man himself had escaped injury, and was holed up in his luxury apartment in the city, his criminal empire and reputation had suffered equally badly, such that his political ambitions had surely been at least temporarily derailed. 

Finally done with their official requirements, the team was dismissed to get some much-needed rest, although Jim had one final request. As soon as his men had left, he said, “Permission to inform Sgt Saltmarsh’s family of his death, sir! I think that as his team leader and friend I should be the one to do it, sir. It would mean a lot to me and my team, Colonel.” 

Masefield contemplated his subordinate for a moment, looking from Ellison’s carefully neutral face to his young guide’s pale and undeniably troubled features. He was uncomfortably aware that he had more unpleasant information to disclose to the pair, although he had intended to wait until they had had at least a couple of days in which to relax and recover from their latest ordeal before facing them again. However, it was only right that Ellison be the one to deliver the sad news to John Saltmarsh’s parents, so he nodded in assent. After all, it was also a good excuse to delay the upcoming meeting a little longer. 

“Fair enough, Captain Ellison. I admire your willingness to undertake a sad but necessary task. You and Guide Sandburg go and have a decent night’s rest, then you can travel to see the sergeant’s family tomorrow. I believe they live in Seattle?” 

“That’s correct, sir. I have visited his parents before, and I believe they would appreciate hearing the news from me and not some unknown third party.” 

“Permission granted, Captain Ellison. Good night, and good to have you back!”  


\----------------------------  


By the time Jim and Blair finally stumbled into their quarters, the smaller man was almost out on his feet. However, there was something far more important to deal with than simply falling into bed and giving in to his exhaustion. He needed to reconnect properly with his sentinel, and seek the comfort and forgiveness he so desperately longed for. When Jim turned to face him, a quizzical but gentle expression softening the patrician features, Blair swallowed hard around the lump of emotion that suddenly rose to stick in his throat. But his words weren’t necessary, as Jim could read everything he needed to see in the huge, mournful eyes that gazed at him with such hunger and pleading, as he could also feel the love and anxiety that seemed to pour off and out of the younger man in waves. 

Opening his arms, he murmured, “It’s OK, babe. Come here, Chief. It’s going to be OK,” and that was all the encouragement Blair needed. With a sob of pure relief, he threw himself into that powerful but comforting embrace, burying his face against Jim’s broad chest as he found his voice at last. 

“I’m sorry, Jim. I’m so sorry to have upset you, and for causing you all so much trouble. I know you’re angry with me. I thought – hoped – that I could handle myself better, but I acted like a useless jerk!” 

Jim sighed deeply before firmly contradicting his distraught young guide. “No, kiddo. You didn’t behave like a useless jerk. Like a courageous little fool, maybe, but you were no jerk, Blair. Throughout most of the operation you held up well, kiddo. Far better than anyone could have expected given your lack of training and field experience. You handled yourself well at the embassy, dealing with Barclay, and with the hostages. Your empathy and understanding got through where a more heavy-handed approach might have invited confrontation and disaster. You did a great job of keeping me grounded so I could use the senses properly at last, and you kept up with us even though you were plainly struggling physically, and without complaint. 

“And although I hate to admit it, I had to admire your courage and selflessness when you went back to help Jesus, babe, even though it terrified me at the time. But it was fear for both you and myself that made me so mad at you, Chief. Your bravery could have gotten you killed. Would have, if you’d gone back to try and save John. And I don’t want to live without you, Chief. Not anymore. I need you, and I need you alive and well. And if that’s selfish, well, sue me! 

“I realise now that it’s in your makeup to help people whenever you can. I just need you to understand that it’s not just your own health and safety at risk now. It’s mine too!” 

He felt Blair shudder in his arms at his heart-felt words, but he didn’t feel guilty even if he was deliberately playing on his guide’s gentle conscience. If that was what it took to keep Blair from putting himself at risk, then so be it. 

However, when the smaller man pulled back a little, just enough to be able to meet Jim’s concerned gaze, he felt a pang of guilt after all even though wild horses couldn’t have dragged a confession from him. 

“I’m truly sorry, Jim. I admit I didn’t think. I just did what came naturally. I know I’m useless in a fire fight. Don’t even know if I can actually shoot at someone at close quarters, although I think I could if you or the team were in direct danger. But I thought that at least I could help get them to safety if nothing else. And although I really will try to think before I act, I can’t promise it won’t happen again. But I will try, Jim. For your sake, I truly will try!” 

Jim sighed again before lowering his head to drop a kiss between Blair’s beautiful eyes. 

“I know, kiddo. I know you will. So we’ll both have to work on this, won’t we? But believe me when I say that I don’t want you to change fundamentally, babe. I love you for your compassion, Chief. Just consider your actions first if you can. 

“And now, I need my bed, as I’m sure you do too. Let’s not wait any longer, OK?” 

Blair’s answering smile was still shaky, but he nodded eagerly, desperate now to reconnect fully both physically and mentally with his sentinel. It was what he lived for now, and strangely enough, he no longer resented it, but embraced it. Who’d have thought? 

They barely made it to the bed before they were upon each other, tugging off clothing and reaching and grasping in their need for skin to skin contact. There was no finesse this time, their desire for each other too urgent and compelling as they rubbed and ground together, kisses deep and hungry as Jim rolled the smaller man onto his back. And Blair moaned and thrust up, incredibly turned on by the sentinel’s domination of him, the powerful muscles rippling as Jim positioned him just where he wanted him. Within minutes they came virtually together without the need for penetration, and the bond sang between them, reaffirming their connection and love for each other, even as it fulfilled Blair’s need for reassurance and provided a much-needed boost to his woefully weak self-esteem. And this time there was no doubt whatsoever that their love was real. Jim knew for a fact that Blair loved him for himself, warts and all, and not because of some form of hero worship or misplaced gratitude. And as far as Jim was concerned, he had absolutely no problem in showing Blair that he adored everything about his quirky little guide, the younger man’s soul and body each as beautiful as the other in Jim’s considered opinion. 

Finally sated and completely exhausted, they fell asleep, with Blair draped across his bigger lover like a blanket, his face burrowing into Jim’s neck as he was held close in powerful but gentle arms. And there was nowhere else he would rather be.  


\----------------------------  


**Later the following morning, Seattle:**  


As he drove past the sign proclaiming Seattle’s City Limits, Jim glanced over at the silent figure seated in the jeep’s passenger seat, staring sightlessly out of the side window. Blair had been quiet and introspective all morning, ever since they had finally woken up after nine hours’ solid sleep. It was an indication of their exhaustion that Jim had even slept through his usual internal alarm, not rousing until after 0800 hours, and then only because he desperately needed a bathroom break. But he knew what was troubling his guide, and could hardly blame him. This was going to be a hard task, and Jim knew from past experience that it never got any easier. Reaching over, he squeezed Blair’s knee, offering the young man a quick smile when Blair turned to look at him. 

“You OK, Chief? I mean, I know this isn’t going to be easy for you, but is there anything I can do to help?” 

Blair offered him a small, sad grin as he replied, internally scolding himself for his self-indulgent pity party. How dare he make such an exhibition of himself? This wasn’t about him, and had to be so much worse for Jim. 

“I’m sorry, Jim. I should be helping you, not the other way around. Take no notice of me, man. It’s just because this sort of thing is new to me is all.” 

Jim grimaced wryly as he patted the knee beneath his hand again. “Unfortunately it’s not new to me, kiddo, but the gods be thanked that I haven’t had to do it often. What I can tell you is that it never gets easier, and I’d be worried for my state of mind if it did. I just appreciate your presence, Chief. And I know you’ll be a great help and comfort to John Snr and Briony Saltmarsh whatever it costs you personally. I just wish you never had to undergo this sort of thing at all.” 

“I know, Jim, and I appreciate your understanding, honestly. It’s just so hard knowing that you’ll never be able to explain exactly how he died – how brave he was!” 

Jim’s expression was grim as he nodded in unhappy agreement. “Yeah, I know, Chief,” he sighed, “but it’s the nature of the beast, sad to say. That’s why they’re called ‘covert ops’ after all, kiddo. We do what we do for our country even if our lords and masters have to deny our very existence! We go in where our government and regular forces fear to tread in case it should spark an international incident. Or even, god help us, provoke an actual conflict! So if we die in action, we can never be acknowledged. All John’s parents can be told is that their son died as a result of military activity, and that’s all. 

“But his comrades know and appreciate his sacrifice, and who knows? At some point in the future it might become politically expedient to acknowledge all such casualties and give them the honour they’re due. After all,” he added with a sardonic grin, “although it took some time, even the Vietnam vets were eventually accorded the respect they deserved!” 

Blair nodded in understanding, but there was more he needed to know, even though he didn’t really want to push Jim any further. He should have known that he couldn’t keep his thoughts and emotions completely to himself, though, so he wasn’t really surprised when his sentinel called him on it. 

“So, what else is on your mind, Chief?” Jim asked kindly, raising a quizzical eyebrow as he glanced over at his passenger again before returning his attention to the road. 

“I was just thinking about John’s parents, Jim. Looking at it from their point of view, and how unfair it is that they will only ever get a partial explanation. I mean, can they even have a memorial service? Even a low-key one?” 

Jim’s lips thinned as he considered his response. Eventually, he sighed again, knowing that it would only partly mollify his kind-hearted guide. 

“They can, babe, but there won’t be a body, of course. I mean, harsh though it sounds, I don’t think there’d be much left to bury anyhow. And what remains there are can’t be repatriated, since officially Pepper wasn’t there anyway. But John’s Dad, John Senior, was a serving marine, and his Mom Briony was an army nurse. Even his older sister Becca is a JAG lawyer, so the whole family understands the military mind set even if it’ll be of little immediate comfort to them.” 

Blair nodded sadly and let the matter drop. It was too much information for him to absorb right now, and he knew he would need time to process it all. For the present he needed to concentrate on what would be required of him within the next hour or so, and leave it at that. 

Jim respected his guide’s silence, and turned his attention to negotiating the somewhat complicated road system in John’s parents’ neighbourhood. It was a respectable, blue collar development in Seattle’s suburbs, the older style houses and mature yards generally neat and well-kept, at least in the immediate area where the Saltmarsh’s small, single storey property stood. Pulling up at the kerb outside the house, Jim looked over at Blair again. 

“OK, Chief, here we are. You OK?” And at Blair’s sad-eyed but determined nod, Jim climbed out of the jeep and waited for his guide to follow suit, donning and straightening his cap as he did so and automatically smoothing out any wrinkles in his dress uniform. Then, assuming a carefully controlled expression, he strode purposefully up to the front door, Blair at his shoulder. 

It was Briony Saltmarsh who answered the door, and her expression changed from welcoming to apprehension as she took in Jim’s serious face and rigid stance. One hand rose to her throat as she gazed at her visitors, her eyes stricken as she murmured, “Captain Ellison. It’s…you’re here about John, aren’t you?” 

“Yes, Ma’am,” Jim nodded grimly, reaching out to steady her as she swayed in the doorway. However, it was her husband who caught her, moving quickly to her side to support her as he too looked at Jim and Blair, his face set and hard. 

“You’d better come in, Captain,” he said stiffly, his eyes betraying bitter understanding even as he guided his wife inside. 

Jim nodded again and he and Blair stepped inside, Blair closing the door quietly behind them, his own expression one of pure compassion as he watched the tragic scene unfold before him. 

There was nothing to be gained by prolonging the couple’s agony, so Jim addressed them gently but firmly. “Mr and Mrs Saltmarsh – John, Briony. Perhaps you’d like to sit down?” 

John Snr nodded jerkily and ushered his wife gently back into the tidy, slightly shabby but homely lounge, and settled her on a sofa before sitting beside her. “Please, sit,” he murmured, nodding towards the two easy chairs opposite. Jim and Blair did so, and gave the couple a moment to brace themselves to actually hear the bad news. When Briony raised her head and met Jim’s gaze, he began. 

“I’m sorry to tell you that John died three days ago. I’m not at liberty to give you any details, as I’m sure you understand, but you have my sincere condolences. He was a good man and a courageous soldier, and a great comrade and friend. I was proud to have him on my team, and we will all miss him.” 

Even though Briony’s eyes filled with tears at his words, there were no hysterics; no dramatic protestations or denials; just a dignified silence as she leaned into her husband’s protective embrace, although there was no mistaking the depths of her grief. As for her husband, he closed his eyes tightly for a long moment, his jaw and chin working as he fought to maintain his composure. However, when he opened his eyes, he was back in control, and subjected both Jim and Blair to a measured look. 

“Thank you, Captain, for coming to deliver this…this news in person. We both appreciate it, I’m sure. I know that the sort of thing John was involved in means that you can’t tell us exactly how he died, but can you at least tell us that it was fighting for his country? Not some tragic accident?” 

Jim nodded once. It was slightly more information than he should have provided, but he decided that they deserved to know. “He did, Mr Saltmarsh, and he died bravely. You can be justly proud of him. That’s all I can say.” 

Briony addressed him then, her voice tremulous and soft as she asked, “Was it quick, Captain? Can you tell me that much?” 

And Jim was grateful that at least he could answer that honestly. “Yes, Mrs Saltmarsh. It was quick, that I can promise you.” 

Her eyes closed briefly and a few tears finally escaped as she whispered, “Thank you, Captain. And thank you both for your compassion and consideration.” 

Blair leaned forward then, his voice soothing and gentle as he murmured, “Can I get you a drink or anything, Mrs Saltmarsh? Mr Saltmarsh?” 

Both of them regarded him sadly, then Briony nodded. “Yes, please, young man. That’s kind of you. A drink of water would be nice.” 

Blair rose to his feet and headed immediately for the kitchen, quickly locating two glasses which he filled with cold water before hurrying back to offer them to the grieving couple. They accepted the drinks with strained but polite smiles of gratitude, and after sipping quietly for a few moments, John Snr carefully took his wife’s glass and set it down with his own on the occasional table beside him. 

“Thank you, young man,” he said. “May I ask your name?” 

“Uh, Sandburg, sir,” Blair answered, blushing a little at the attention. “G I Guide Blair Sandburg, sir.” 

John Snr nodded, his eyes still desperately sad, but his small smile genuine as he said, “So you’re Captain Ellison’s new guide then? John said that he thought the captain might need one eventually. I’m pleased to meet you, son.” 

“Thank you, sir,” Blair replied, his expression open and earnest. “I just wish it could have been in better circumstances. And I want you to know that although I haven’t been with Captain Ellison’s team for long, I got to know your son quite well, and I liked him very much. He was good to me, and helped me feel welcome. And I’m going to miss him too.” 

Briony looked up at that, and smiled softly. “You’re a good boy, Guide Sandburg, and I wish you well. And you also, Captain Ellison. Jim. You will always be welcome in our house. But we won’t keep you any longer. Thank you again for your kindness, and we wish you a safe journey back to base.” 

Realising that the couple needed to be left alone to deal with their grief together, Jim and Blair rose to their feet and took their leave with another word or two of comfort. And on the drive back to Findlayson, although their silence was companionable, both men were wrapped up in their thoughts as they dealt with the morning’s unhappiness in their own way.  



	14. Doubt and Disillusion

**Chapter 14: Doubt and Disillusion:**  


Arriving back at the base, Jim and Blair returned to their quarters, both men still pensive and quiet as Blair preceded Jim through the front door at Jim’s urging. He knew that his tender-hearted guide would be grieving not only for their lost comrade, but for his family too, but was at a loss as to how to help him through it. However, as he closed the door behind them, he was immediately aware of the tang of saline that suggested Blair was near to tears, and far more upset than Jim had imagined. 

“Hey, hey, babe,” he murmured, turning the smaller man around to face him. “Look, I know that was hard on you – it was hard on us both – but you can’t let it hurt you so much.” 

He frowned in consternation when Blair shuddered and raised round, tearful eyes to gaze up at him, the younger man’s throat working as he tried to speak around the sob that was fighting to emerge. A pang of pure anguish pierced Jim’s heart when a fat tear finally spilled over to trickle unnoticed down Blair’s cheek, and he raised his hands to cup the beloved face in warm palms. 

“I’m s…sorry, Jim,” Blair managed, his voice breaking with the weight of misery consuming him. “I…it’s not just about John or about his grieving parents, although that’s so hard to bear. I just…I was just thinking that I never, _ever_ want to have that happen to you! To have someone come to tell me that you were gone. I couldn’t bear it if I wasn’t even with you when it happened! I know it! But I know it _could_ at any time, and it’s just too much. I’m so sorry to lay it on you, but you know me intimately now, so I can’t hide what I feel from you. And most of the time I don’t want to. But this…this is…I’m sorry!” and he broke off, more tears escaping now and his sweet features creasing in despair as he lost the battle not to cry. 

Jim didn’t hesitate, but pulled his sobbing guide into a warm hug, automatically rocking him as if he were a child. But he was no child. Just a devastated and overwrought young man who had reached the limit of his endurance. And as he shushed his trembling armful, he was struck with amazement at what he had heard. Blair loved him that much. So much that he didn’t want to even think of Jim being killed in action. 

Just as Jim couldn’t bear to think of the same thing happening to his guide. They were quite the pair, and even though it was a deeply troubling concept for both of them, Jim couldn’t help but feel a surge of warmth in his soul at the sudden realisation that no one had ever loved him like this before. 

After a few minutes, Blair’s sobs finally slowed, reduced to hiccupping breaths before ceasing altogether. Jim gently put the smaller man away from him, just enough so that he could look down into the red-rimmed and puffy eyed, tear-stained face. 

“So, now you know what I was talking about, huh, baby? Why I was so mad at you!” he murmured with a soft smile, his eyes warm as he raised a hand to brush carefully at the tear tracks beneath one mournful blue eye. “I sure as hell don’t want anything to happen to you either, so I guess we’re going to have to watch each other’s backs really carefully. But we’re both going to have to face the fact that it could happen, so we have to make the most of however long we have together, OK? And right now, I’d like to take you to bed. We don’t have to do anything more than cuddle, if that’s all you want, but I need to hold you. That OK with you?” 

And of course there was no way Blair was going to turn that offer down. The comfort he gained simply by being held in his sentinel’s powerful but so loving arms was something he had learned to rely on, and right now he needed it so very much. Nodding eagerly, he followed gladly when Jim took his hand and led him over to their bed. They quickly divested themselves of their outer clothing, Jim of course taking a few moments to hang his dress uniform carefully in the closet, and then they tumbled together into bed, there to hold each other tightly as they opened their link fully. This time there was no urge to have sex, just a mutual giving and taking of comfort until they both finally drifted off into a gentle, dream-free and healing sleep. 

\------------------------  


When they woke an hour or so later, Jim was pleased to find that Blair was much calmer now, having obviously benefitted from their mutual support session. For sure, it would still weigh on his mind, but Jim hoped that his guide would be able to deal a little better with his grief, knowing that Jim would be there for him for as long as he was able, and also understood exactly where he was coming from. Sitting up and pulling Blair’s sleep-warm body against him, the smaller man’s back to his chest, he dropped a kiss on the soft skin of the guide’s neck and murmured, “I’m going to get the guys together kiddo, and ask them if they want to go to the bar tonight to drink to Pepper. It’s something we always do at times like this. A ritual, I guess, and as an anthropologist I guess it’s something you’d know all about. The need to say goodbye properly as a team and remember all the good times we had together. You going to be OK with that?” 

Blair nodded, smiling sadly as he tilted his head back to meet Jim’s gaze. “Yeah, I’ll be fine, Jim. I need it too, and it’s something I really do understand. Do you want me to drive again?” 

“If that’s OK with you, kiddo, I’d appreciate it. We’ll go and see them now, shall we? But I’m thinking a shower would be good first, huh?” and he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, inordinately pleased when Blair actually giggled. 

“Now that’s an idea I could get behind,” he replied a little shyly, relaxing with a sigh of contentment against his ‘Jim-pillow’ when the sentinel nibbled at his neck. However, seconds later he found himself lifted bodily and set on his feet beside the bed as Jim grinned down at him. 

“Hold that thought, Chief, and let’s get the water running!” and with a shared chuckle they went hand in hand to the bathroom, intent on doing their bit for the environment again.  


\----------------------------  


**Later that evening, in the bar at Baker’s Ford:**  


It was a much more subdued group who settled into their usual booth, tall glasses of beer before them – apart from Blair, of course, who still had a month or so to go until his twenty-first birthday. He was nursing a soda, but not feeling at all resentful at being nominated as designated driver for all the team. They needed this, and although he did also, their relationship with Pepper had been far stronger and of greater duration. 

Jim looked around him at his men, feeling their sorrow and anger at being deprived of their popular comrade, and pushed himself to his feet, holding up his glass. Meeting all their gazes in turn, he said quietly, “Here’s to Pepper. Our friend and comrade. May he rest in peace.” 

The others raised their glasses and spoke as one. “To Pepper. God bless him!” and they drank a toast to his memory. 

That done, they sat down again and began to talk, and the healing process was underway. They recalled shared incidents and told lively anecdotes about Pepper’s life as one of them, and soon their laughter re-emerged as they remembered the man he was and the great friend he had been. He wouldn’t be forgotten, for sure, but it was right that the chapter should be closed now, because in their chosen occupation they couldn’t afford to mourn endlessly those who had gone. It could well be their turn next, and they all knew it. 

During the evening, as they gradually relaxed, the beers they had drunk providing a pleasant buzz rather than making them unnecessarily maudlin, other servicemen and women drifted over to offer their commiserations and memories also. Sergeant Saltmarsh had been generally well-liked and respected on the base, and his loss would be felt by more than just his team. And all the while, Blair soaked up the atmosphere, the anthropologist in him recognising and appreciating their behaviours, his own grief set aside as of little importance in the greater scheme of things. 

There was one group, however, who didn’t share the same sentiments, and it was their less than sympathetic, boorish attitude that put a dampener on the evening, to the disgust of nearly everyone who paid them any attention. 

Jim was sitting comfortably beside his guide, his hand resting proprietarily on Blair’s shoulder, knowing that the younger man wasn’t in the least bit bothered by his sentinel’s instinctive need to protect him, or by the slightly primal possessive posturing in this instance. Blair was equally driven by his own need to protect his sentinel – and in particular, his sentinel’s sensitivity – so even as he enjoyed the occasion and the company, he was alert to the possibility that he might need to ground Jim if necessary. 

Feeling relaxed and in control thanks to his guide’s proximity, Jim gazed around him, half listening to Marvin and Jesus exchanging ever sillier jokes as their laughter took over, such that even the dour Iain Sturgis was now grinning from ear to ear. He knew that they’d have to make a move soon, but was happy for them all to have perhaps one more beer before piling into the jeep so that Blair could drive them back to base. The companionable evening out had done them all the world of good, and although their sadness and regret would never really go away, they could look forward now to whatever TPTB had in store for them. 

Suddenly, however, his hackles rose as he sensed an amorphous threat, and his attention instinctively zeroed in on the group huddled in the dimly lit, shadowy booth at the far side of the barroom. Sentinel sight easily made out the men’s features, and he frowned as he recognised the same NCOs as had tried to intimidate Blair on their last visit. The men had their heads together, muttering and gesticulating angrily as they downed their beers, and Jim’s frown deepened as he saw the occasional furtive and bad-tempered glance cast in his direction. Without a second thought, he opened his hearing and unashamedly eavesdropped, concerned that the men were up to no good despite his previous warning. And what he heard both angered and shocked him, and ruined the evening for him completely. 

_“Guess they’re drinking to John Saltmarsh, then. He was a good enough guy, but I’ll be damned if I’m going over there to make nice with that bunch of fag-lovers!”_

_“Yeah. I knew him before he volunteered for the Rangers. Did some training together. He was OK back then. And Ellison was a good officer before that faggot guide got his claws into him! I don’t give a shit what they say about guides being necessary for sentinels to function properly. They’re all fags and candy asses. Only good for fucking, and Murphy knew it!”_

_“And made the most of it too! Until that little bastard Sandburg shopped him. It’s thanks to that little shit that he’s been dishonourably discharged. No pension, no respect, and probably no job prospects either! And after all he’s done for the army and his country, fer Chrissakes! He was a fucking hero!”_

_“Could have been worse though, I guess. If Ellison had had his way, ole Murph would be doing time in Leavenworth!”_

_“Good job the fucking General had more sense then. At least he knows what’s good for the service. And thanks to him, Masefield realised that we never did anything wrong either! Still got us a dressing down, though, and I won’t forgive either Ellison or his little fuck-buddy for that anytime soon! Fucking embarrassing, that was!”_

The conversation continued in the same vein, growing ever more disgruntled and profane and Jim pulled his hearing back in disgust. So, Dermot Murphy had gotten away with nothing but a simple dishonourable discharge, had he? After everything he did to Blair? And all those other hapless victims he had abused over the gods knew how many years? And apparently his ignorant bozo friends had gotten away with nothing but a verbal slapped wrist too. 

It wasn’t good enough, and his anger and resentment grew as he realised that he was going to have to explain to Blair just how little importance had been assigned to his horrendous assault. And how little value far too many service personnel placed on the role of guides in general; an unforgiveable attitude that seemed to reach right up the chain of command. 

But after that he was going to confront Colonel Masefield in person, because he sure as hell wasn’t going to let this go. 

Unsurprisingly, Blair was aware of his anger, and turned to look at him, his expression one of deep concern. “Are you OK, Jim?” he asked quietly. “What’s wrong? Are your senses bothering you? Can I help?” 

“Not now, Sandburg!” Jim growled, keeping their link firmly closed. He knew he’d hurt the young empath when Blair drew back as if slapped, his eyes telegraphing his distress as he retreated into pained silence. He’d explain later, and hope that Blair would be as understanding and forgiving as he usually was, but right now he was too furious to link with his guide. The kid didn’t need to know the details about this right now, and neither did his team. 

“OK, guys, time to go,” he announced with forced joviality. Blair nodded uncertainly, and the other three grinned sappily and got to their feet, in their slightly inebriated state unaware of the suddenly strained atmosphere between sentinel and guide. They left the bar, exchanging a few good-natured farewells on the way, and piled somewhat uncoordinatedly into the jeep, still laughing and joking as Blair pulled away. 

And if the young man drove in sombre silence the whole way back, no one but Jim seemed to notice.  


\----------------------------  


Arriving back at their quarters, having dropped off the rest of the team at their respective accommodations, Blair quietly opened the door and slipped in, apparently trying to be as unobtrusive as possible in the light of his sentinel’s ill humour. However, now they were alone, Jim was having none of it, and he reached for his guide, pulling him into a warm hug. 

“I’m sorry, kiddo. I’m sorry to have frightened you and upset you like that, but I had my reasons, even if you won’t think much of them once you’ve heard them. It’s just that I didn’t want to make a scene at the bar, especially at Pepper’s wake, and I think that I probably wouldn’t have been able to stop myself if I’d taken the time to explain there and then. But if you’re ready, I’ll tell you everything, and if you link with me now, you’ll understand better what I mean, OK?” 

He was greatly relieved to feel the tentative nod against his chest as Blair’s arms came up to wrap around his waist. And as he opened the link and felt Blair’s mind nudge a little nervously against his, he concentrated on sending as much love and comfort as he could to reassure his guide of his good intentions. 

They stood for a few minutes longer; relaxing into their mental connection, then Jim pulled away and grinned ruefully down into Blair’s quizzical gaze. 

“Let’s sit down and get comfortable, Chief. This isn’t going to be easy for you to hear. It wasn’t for me, I can tell you! And I’m still mad, as you can tell, but it’s not against you. It’s on your behalf, and by extension, mine too. 

Blair nodded his acceptance of Jim’s explanation, and sat down on the sofa, his gaze expectant as he watched his bigger lover settle beside him, expression grim as he hitched around to meet Blair’s eyes. 

“OK, babe, here goes,” murmured Jim, his own eyes almost apologetic as he prepared to repeat virtually word for word what he had heard, and from whom. 

By the time he had finished, Blair was unsurprisingly desperately upset on several counts. Too shaken to speak for some minutes, he was grateful when Jim wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close, his free hand gently stroking Blair’s hair as the young man buried his face in the crook of Jim’s neck and shoulder. Jim could feel the moisture of Blair’s panting breaths on his skin and hear the erratic thrumming of the young man’s heart as he fought to control his emotions, and his heart broke for yet another cruel and undeserved hurt inflicted on such a gentle soul. 

Eventually, Blair was able to sit back, and his eyes reflected his pain and sorrow as he met Jim’s concerned gaze. And yet again the sentinel was humbled by his guide’s first words, which were for him, and not for Blair at all. 

“Oh, Jim, I’m sorry! So sorry you had to hear that, and at Pepper’s wake too! I mean, I wish you’d’ve let me help you. It’s not fair you had to keep that to yourself!” 

Shaking his head in fond exasperation, Jim chuckled sadly, “Only you, Chief, could worry about me when it was you who was being maligned like that! What they had to say about me was nothing in comparison. But far more worrying is that Masefield seems to have dropped the ball as far as Murphy and the whole question of guide abuse is concerned. And I intend to do something about it if I can.” 

Looking pensive, Blair chewed his full lower lip nervously before offering somewhat diffidently, “Um, I’m probably grasping at straws here, but I wondered if, just by chance, they were deliberately trying to wind you up, knowing that you could hear them? It’s just a thought. You know, in case the Colonel actually wasn’t as lenient as they made it sound?” 

Jim smiled sadly at him, shaking his head in rueful denial. “No, Chief. I really don’t think so, although I know you’re only trying to look for the silver lining, so to speak. I’m pretty damn certain they were telling it like it is, if my sensory scan was anything to go by. They think that Murphy’s – and their – punishment is way too harsh as it is!” 

Blair looked away for a moment, his expression sad and bleak. “You’re right, Jim. I’m sure you weren’t mistaken, and I’m sorry for doubting you. It was just a vain hope, I know. But it hurts to think that I’m so worthless. That _guides_ are considered so worthless in the armed forces where in civilian life at least they have some respect. I know that volunteer guides are treated better than draftees, but I believe that the whole question of conscription is fundamentally wrong. Maybe in times of war or national emergency I can understand it, as it applies to everyone who is suitable. But as an accepted if rarely used means of compelling unwilling guides to undergo forced bonding, it’s unconscionable! And to abuse us when we have no means of protecting ourselves or even complaining without fear of reprisals, it’s too much! 

“A…and I know I’ve been lucky, Jim. Please don’t get me wrong. You needed a strong guide, and it just happened to be me. I might not have chosen this path, but I love you, and I’ve learned to accept our partnership. And I can honestly say I’m proud to be a part of it in whatever way I can. 

“But I can’t forgive Sgt Murphy. And it hurts so much that he got away so lightly. I really must be of so little value after all!” and he tailed off with a despondent sigh. 

“Not to me you’re not!” Jim responded fervently, pulling the smaller man into his arms again. “OK, I needed a virtual kick up the ass to realise it, but you mean everything to me, kiddo, and there are a whole lot of good people out there who think the same. You know how our guys feel about you, and they’re not alone in their appreciation. But you’re right as far as TPTB are concerned. The whole concept of conscripting guides is morally wrong, and abusing them is adding insult to injury. And you know what, Chief? I’m going to do my best to do something about it! I might not be able to change the law, but I sure as hell can expose the abuse, and if that opens a can of worms, then so be it!” 

Clinging on to Jim for all he was worth, Blair nodded eagerly. “Together, Jim! We’ll do it together! If I’m with you, I’m not scared of the consequences, whatever they might be! I love you so much, man!” 

And as their link thrummed between them, they were assured of their shared determination to pursue that course of action, even as they were assured of their mutual love and commitment.  



	15. Where do we go from here?

**Chapter 15: Where do we go from here?:**  


The following morning, both men were up early, ready, if not exactly eager in Blair’s case, to return to their normal training routine as the accepted post-mission downtime was done. It was also time for Jim to start looking for possible recruits for his team, knowing that he would be expected to replace Pepper Saltmarsh as soon as possible. For all intents and purposes, the type of covert ops team that Jim led was normally a six-man team, that being the perceived optimum number of personnel required to successfully carry out the sort of clandestine missions assigned to them. Of course, Jim had no problem with female recruits should there be any available of the right calibre, but for the most part Ranger volunteers were male; the extreme, rigorous training they had undergone sorting out the wheat from the chaff such that only the fittest and most able individuals got through. And that meant both physically and mentally. 

However, Jim was pondering on whether to request two extra recruits, because in all honesty, Blair couldn’t be counted amongst the combat-hardened specialists that he needed. Certainly the young guide could be considered to be a specialist in his own right, essential to Jim’s being able to function satisfactorily as a sentinel, but Jim didn’t actually want him to follow in his own footsteps. He loved the young man for his enquiring mind, good heart and generous nature, and didn’t want to see any more of his innocence gradually eroded through having to engage in bloody, physical combat or what were essentially dirty tricks. It was inevitable that he would encounter some pretty gruesome sights and dangerous situations; indeed, he had already done so; but Jim felt it his duty to try and protect the young guide as much as he could, even if said young guide would probably scold him for doing so if he realised what his sentinel was about. 

Then again, before he did anything else, Jim’s first priority was to set up a meeting with Colonel Masefield for both himself and Blair, because they needed to know exactly where they stood. Lying awake during the night, with Blair sleeping soundly in his arms, Jim had begun to wonder if Blair might have had a point, and that just maybe he had heard what he wanted to hear in the bar and come to the wrong conclusions. He didn’t really think so, but once they both knew for sure what had become of Sgt Murphy, and what was the official outcome of the enquiry, they could decide how to proceed. And Jim had to hope that Blair wasn’t about to be further disillusioned, because he knew that he himself wouldn’t tolerate any further evidence that the whole messy business was being swept under the carpet for convenience’s sake. 

Watching his semi-comatose grumpy-butt guide stumbling towards the bathroom, he grinned wryly, amused by the young man’s continuous, almost sub-vocal grousing. 

“Hey, Chief! It’s not so bad. I have a fresh pot of coffee with your name on it!” and he laughed aloud as the sleep-rumpled waif abruptly turned about and headed over to him, eyes still barely open as he held out his hand for the mug Jim proffered. He downed nearly half of it without pause, and held it out for a refill, and Jim watched fascinated as bleary blue eyes opened wider, and the miraculous transformation began from somnambulist to energiser bunny before his very eyes. 

Mere minutes later, Blair smiled up at him, a hint of rueful amusement in his glance. “Thanks, Jim. Just what the doctor ordered. I’ll grab a quick shower, then I can do breakfast if you want?” 

“Nah, that’s OK, babe,” Jim replied. “I’ve got it covered today. But you can do it tomorrow, if you want. We can take it in turns, unless we decide to go to the officer’s mess. You’re not my servant or my batman, Guide Sandburg, as I’ve already told you many times,” he added with mock severity. “Meanwhile, chop chop, kiddo, because I want to go to the admin building before we hit the gym.” 

Blair’s face fell again, because he knew what Jim intended. “OK, Jim. I know it’s something we need to do. Just not looking forward to it is all. Pretty gutless of me, huh? Naomi would be ashamed of me. I never used to be so timid,” he continued sadly. “In fact, jumping into good causes with both feet was what got me into trouble with Chancellor Edwards at the U. 

“But not so much now. Now I’m just plain scared, and how sad is that?” 

“Nope, it’s not sad at all, babe,” Jim hastened to reassure him. “It’s only natural after what you’ve been through, and I can’t say I’m looking forward to confronting the CO any more than you. But the sooner we know what’s what, the sooner we can make our plans, whatever they may be.” 

Blair nodded resignedly, and turned for the bathroom again. He knew that Jim was right, and accepted it. It was just that he had a feeling that they were both about to be sadly disappointed. Again.  


\---------------------------------  


**Later, in Colonel Masefield’s Office:**  


Jim and Blair stood at attention before Colonel Masefield’s desk, waiting for the man to speak. Jim’s face wore its usual, stoic expression, neither his eyes nor his demeanour giving anything away beneath his commanding officer’s scrutiny. Not so Blair, however, who was hard put not to squirm in discomfort as he tried vainly to adopt a similar cool, calm and collected attitude as his sentinel. Then again, both men realised in their own way that the colonel wasn’t anything like as calm as his outward appearance suggested. Jim could easily identify the faint, sour hint of nervous sweat on the other man’s body, even as his elevated heart rate belied his agitation. 

On the other hand, despite his own anxiety, Blair could literally feel the colonel’s anger and irritation and the empath wondered at the underlying fear, which didn’t bode well for a satisfactory exchange of information in his opinion. They had arrived at the outer office, expecting to have to set up a meeting through Masefield’s aide, Lt Blakeway, at the colonel’s convenience, but after Blakeway had announced their arrival, they had been admitted immediately. It was almost as if the man had been expecting them, and perhaps he had. 

After a lengthy pause, perhaps intended, in Jim’s cynical opinion at least, to throw them off balance, Masefield finally spoke. 

“Captain Ellison, Guide Sandburg. Please take a seat, gentlemen. I had intended to call you both in for a meeting later today, but as you’ve beaten me to it, we might as well get it over with. Scuttlebutt being what it is on base, I suspect you’ll have heard some rumours about what has happened in your absence, am I right?” 

As he seated himself in one of the chairs indicated, Jim nodded curtly. “Yes, sir. We have heard some less than satisfactory comments, and would appreciate being told the facts.” He sent a brief glance of reassurance to Blair, who sat down beside him, the young man’s tension obvious even as he shot a tiny, grateful grin at his sentinel. 

“I see,” Masefield replied, his lips thinning in overt displeasure. “I thought as much. I hardly expected you to beat about the bush, Ellison, but before we begin, let me say first that our Commander in Chief, General Warburton, has professed himself to be very satisfied with your performance in Venezuela, despite the regrettable loss of Sergeant Saltmarsh. You and your team conducted yourselves well, as did your new guide, which the General views as a positive outcome and ample justification for our adherence to the mandatory guide conscription policy. And I can see that neither of you is exactly overjoyed at that news,” he added sardonically with a frown of pure irritation. 

Exchanging a speaking glance with his guide, Jim faced front again, obdurately refusing to give in to Masefield’s attempt at staring him down. “That is correct, sir,” he replied, his tone icily polite. “But before we discuss that further, if we may, we need to hear the full account of what has been done to punish Sgt Murphy and those others who have disgraced their uniform by abusing my guide and others like him. I am assuming that the Board of Enquiry took place while we were away?” and his tone and expression left Masefield in no doubt that Jim believed it to have been deliberately assembled in their absence. And the answering flash of guilt in the colonel’s eyes confirmed it. 

Even so, the colonel had no intention of admitting it out loud, although he should have known that his physiological responses as well as his emotions would give him away anyway. Assuming an air of dignified affront, he snapped, “Believe what you will about the timing, Captain Ellison. But the fact remains that the Board of Enquiry was convened the day after you departed for Venezuela, and the resulting verdict was conclusive. Whatever I may or may not think about it is irrelevant in the light of General Warburton’s final decision.” 

Jim exchanged another glance with Blair, both men knowing that they were about to have their worst fears confirmed. And they weren’t wrong. 

Masefield regarded them steadily for a moment, his face fixed in a grimace of distaste, but whether it was on account of the information he was being forced to impart, or of the men themselves, it was hard to tell. Finally, he began, his voice flat as he attempted to be as prosaic as possible. 

“As you know, Captain Ellison, Sergeant Murphy has been in charge of guide recruit training on this base for several years now with some notable success, and his previous service record speaks for itself. While it is not disputed that he did, in fact, physically assault your guide, no other evidence or complaints have been forthcoming. Whether or not he was in the habit of intimidating guides in order to get sexual satisfaction is unproven at this time in the light of the lack of witnesses. Indeed, it is pure speculation and hearsay based on your guide’s testimony. 

“While the members of the Board all agree that Murphy’s treatment of your guide was reprehensible in the extreme, they took into consideration his length of loyal service plus the statements offered by the character witnesses he was able to summon in his defence. The verdict therefore was what one would expect. He was found guilty on the charge of assaulting G I Guide Sandburg, but Not Guilty on any other charges of alleged misconduct. 

“Since it is the opinion of General Warburton that repercussions arising from such a potential scandal be kept to a minimum for the sake of Fort Findlayson’s reputation, and that of the service as a whole, Sergeant Murphy was spared from serving a prison sentence with the proviso that he accept immediate dismissal in the form of a Dishonourable Discharge and swore on oath not to disclose any information regarding the case to the media.” 

Masefield stopped speaking, and warily studied the men’s reactions, expecting anger and dissatisfaction, but also forced to wonder now just how extreme the sentinel’s response might be. Ellison’s eyes were hard and cold, his glare menacing and almost feral as the muscles jumped in his jaw as he clenched his teeth in silent fury, his body tense and coiled for action, such that Masefield seriously considered calling for assistance. 

It was Sandburg who came to his aid, although he realised afterwards that it wasn’t entirely for his benefit. Although the young man’s pale face and pained expression telegraphed his hurt and anger, he still reached across to his sentinel, grasping Ellison’s tense forearm and rubbing gentle circles on a powerful bicep as he murmured soothing words _sotto voce._ Although Masefield couldn’t hear what he was saying – which was actually a fervent plea for Jim to stand down, as Blair was terrified that his sentinel would physically attack his CO and land himself in serious trouble – the colonel breathed a sigh of relief when the light of battle faded from Ellison’s eyes, to be replaced by an expression of pure disdain. 

It took a moment for Jim to control himself sufficiently to speak rationally, but when he did, his voice was clipped and cold, the depth of the fury and disgust he was experiencing more evidenced by his flat, cynical delivery than if he had shouted and raged. 

“So, this is what passes for justice in this man’s army these days,” he began, holding Masefield’s gaze unflinchingly. “When a senior NCO can get away with serial abuse for years without any sort of reprisal. And it’s only when he goes too far for once that he is actually caught and punished. If you can call that sentence ‘punishment’. You can’t seriously expect us to believe that there were no other available witnesses for the prosecution, _sir_. Was there actually any attempt made to track any down? Somehow, I doubt it. And although it would have been hard on him, surely Guide Sandburg should have been able to deliver his sworn testimony in person. 

“And what about Murphy’s cronies? The ones I sent to you after they tried to intimidate my guide in a public bar? What sort of punishment did you mete out to them, sir?” 

Masefield had the decency to look somewhat abashed then, even though he wasn’t about to make any excuses. Even if he was personally ashamed of acting too leniently, ultimately he had to answer to his Commander in Chief and to consider his superior’s opinions, and he was forced to act accordingly. 

“I don’t have to justify myself to you, Captain!” he snapped. “I read them the riot act, and warned them that I wouldn’t tolerate any further suggestion of attempted revenge or retaliation against Guide Sandburg. I believe they got the message, Captain!” 

Jim’s sour ‘Yeah, right!’ grimace was answer enough, and Masefield knew that there was no more to be said. Now wasn’t the time to go into deeper discussions about the rights and wrongs of guide conscription. On the brink of rank insubordination, Ellison needed time to calm down and consider his options, and that went for the guide also. And Masefield just had to hope that they would both decide to accept the situation as it stood, despite their very obvious disgruntlement. 

“I think that this meeting is at an end, Captain Ellison. There’s no more to be said right now. What’s done is done, and there will be no revisiting or revising of the verdicts. Take your guide and consider what has been agreed, and I trust that pragmatism will allow you both to be able to come to terms with the decisions made. Dismissed!” 

Jim and Blair stood and snapped to attention before saluting and turning to go. It was true. There was no more to be said in this instance with feelings running so high, but both men were seething with intense dissatisfaction as they left the office. Thoughts and emotions were in tumult, and although Jim might have preferred not to lay his extreme anger on Blair, he knew that together they were strong, and that Blair needed to link with him and share his own emotions too. So as soon as they had left the building, and were in a relatively secluded spot, Jim pulled the smaller man to him, and opened their connection. 

Unsurprisingly, both were initially rocked by the intensity of each other’s thoughts and feelings, but the very act of sharing them and understanding where such thoughts came from provided much-needed mutual support. For long moments, they leaned into one another, exchanging comfort and affection until Jim finally pulled back, gazing sadly down into Blair’s mournful and shadowed blue eyes. 

“I’m sorry, babe,” he murmured softly. “I know we both expected the worst, but it’s still hard to hear it said out loud. And we didn’t even touch on the whole question of guide conscription, which was probably my fault because my reaction was so extreme. I’m sorry, babe!” 

“No, Jim, it wasn’t your fault,” Blair replied earnestly, reaching up to cup Jim’s cheek in his palm. “Yes, you frightened me some, because I really thought you were going for the colonel’s throat for a moment, but I don’t think he ever intended to discuss anything further. He was scared, Jim, and I think it was as much to do with having to obey his superior’s orders as it was with facing up to us. He’s caught in a cleft stick, and he knows it, just like he knows he’s lost your respect!” 

Jim’s pained grimace and resigned sigh was answer enough, and as he slung his arm around Blair’s shoulders, they turned to make their way to the gym by mutual agreement, both of them needing the physical activity and the calming influence of endless routine repetitions to both burn off their anger and nervous energy and provide them with the opportunity to get their thoughts into perspective. They had plenty to consider now, and the sooner they could do it calmly and rationally the better.  



	16. Decisions to Make, Paths to Choose

**Chapter 16: Decisions to Make, Paths to Choose:**  


**Later that afternoon, Jim’s office:**  


Jim perched on the edge of his desk, his expression grim but resolute as he looked around at his gathered team. Iain, Marvin and Jesus were all seated before him, their own expressions quizzical and not a little concerned, and he knew that he was about to confirm their worst fears. Beside him, Blair reached up and squeezed his forearm, the large blue eyes anxious as he sought to offer reassurance, knowing full well that this had to be so much harder for Jim than he could ever imagine.  


\-------------------------  


The fact was that, after they had finished their workout at the gym, Blair had been seriously worried by Jim’s preoccupied air, never having seen his sentinel look quite so pensive, and the fact that Jim had also gently refused to link with him at the time had concerned him even more. What had he done? Or what was Jim contemplating? The myriad reasons his over-active imagination immediately conjured up frightened him, because none of them were good, especially in the light of the depressing and disappointing meeting they had just had with Colonel Masefield. And of course, Blair being Blair, he was convinced that Jim’s troubled state of mind just had to be his fault for some reason or other. It was only after they had returned to their quarters that Jim had heaved a heavy sigh and taken his desperately anxious guide into his arms. 

“Sorry, Chief. I know you’re worried, but I had some serious thinking to do, and I needed to do it for myself. You’ve done nothing wrong, babe, I promise. I’m not punishing you for anything, so you can get that devastated look off your face!” he said with a sad smile. He raised one hand and gently ran his fingers through Blair’s short curls, the silky softness calming him as he smiled fondly, approving of the steady regrowth. And perhaps if he had his way, he would eventually see Blair sporting a full head of long curls again, all the more for a sentinel to play with and enjoy. 

But first he had to tell his young guide of his decision, and that might not be as straight-forward as he would wish, knowing how deeply Blair cared for him, and also how quickly he took things to heart whether he was at fault or not. 

“Come and sit down, kiddo,” he commanded gently, pulling Blair along with him as he headed for the sofa. They had had a quick shower at the gym, so when the young man snuggled so trustingly up against him, cuddled beneath Jim’s arm, the deliciously clean Blair-scent tantalised his nostrils, and even though there was still a hint of nervousness underlying it, Jim was instantly soothed by both it and the feel of the beloved body pressed up close. 

Opening their link, he concentrated on sending thoughts of love, comfort and reassurance to his guide, receiving them in kind as Blair reciprocated with a will. But he also perceived the impatient curiosity which Blair couldn’t disguise, and he chuckled fondly as he dropped a kiss on the curly head resting on his chest. Time to satisfy that curiosity, and hopefully also win Blair’s approval for Jim’s decisions. 

Gently putting the younger man away from him so he could hitch around in order to be able to look Blair in the eye, he reached out and cupped his guide’s cheek tenderly for a moment before he began. Blair’s expression combined affection and eagerness, with a touch of concern thrown in, and Jim’s heart swelled with love at the open adoration he could feel through their link. His guide was beautiful indeed, and Jim felt no resentment at all about the decision he had come to when it involved their future together. He just needed Blair to be genuinely on board with it, and not agreeing through a misplaced sense of loyalty to his sentinel. 

“OK, Chief, here goes!” he began with a wry grin. “I want to get this out without interruption, if you can manage it, babe, because it’s something that needs to be said straight out. We can discuss it afterwards, because there’s no way I want this to be a unilateral decision, but equally I don’t want to get side-tracked, OK?” 

Mystified now, Blair nodded quickly. He sensed that this was of significant importance to Jim, and by extension, to him also, so much as it went against the grain, he told himself to control his impatience and listen without butting in. 

“Right then, kiddo, here goes. You know how upset I was – we both were – after that sick joke of a meeting with the CO, but I can assure you that my decision has a more solid basis than a knee-jerk reaction to what we just heard. I’ve been thinking about this for a while now – even before I met you, in fact – but only now do I feel justified in doing something about it. 

“You see, babe, I’ve decided to resign my commission. Now, hold on a moment,” he added quickly, placing an admonishing finger against Blair’s lips. The utter shock on the young face was plain to see, and he knew that despite his guide’s previous assent he desperately wanted to speak out. “Please don’t say anything yet, babe. Like I said, I need to get this all out in one go!” When Blair subsided, even though there was no mistaking the flash of exasperation that flickered in his eyes, Jim continued. 

“Thing is, Chief, that I’ve been getting more and more disillusioned about my role in covert ops, and when I was ordered to take a guide, it just brought everything to a head. Incacha – the Peruvian shaman I told you about – said that my destiny was to find my true guide and to be the tribal protector of what he called ‘the Great City’, which I’m pretty sure refers to my home town of Cascade. Back then, I didn’t take a lot of notice, I admit. I’ve never been that comfortable with the spiritual aspect of the whole sentinel phenomenon after all. But after meeting with – and more importantly, bonding with you – I’m beginning to understand and accept it more. And the type of operations I’ve been involved in over these past few years no longer jibe with my concept of what my role should be. I feel compelled to protect the tribe, and I’ve never shirked from doing my duty for my country, but not through endless questionable and unsavoury missions that are getting increasingly difficult to justify. I don’t necessarily mean that last one; and as you know, despite our bond I can’t tell you about any of the others in detail; but suffice it to say that more and more often I and my team have had to carry out stuff that would make any decent, right-minded citizen’s toes curl in disgust, simply because our government and military powers-that-be consider it to be politically expedient. And I’ve had enough, Chief. 

“And once I was forced to recognise the unacceptable nature of this whole guide conscription business, the decision was easier than I thought. I’m totally serious here, babe. I just need to know that we’re both on the same page. And I don’t think I’ve ever talked so much in my life!” he ended with a self-deprecating grin. 

To say that Blair was completely astounded would have been an understatement. This was something he could never have anticipated in his wildest dreams, but he had absolutely no doubt that right now Jim was utterly sincere. The implications were almost overwhelming, but he knew he had to control his own instinctive reactions for Jim’s sake, because something this momentous had to be considered fully and rationally from all angles. It was both their futures at stake after all, and he needed to know that Jim was truly convinced that he was doing the right thing for the right reason. There was no way that Blair wanted to think that further down the line Jim would come to resent leaving the army, especially if it was primarily because of Blair’s influence. 

“Oh, man! I don’t know what to say!” he breathed. “That is, I _do_ know, but I don’t want you to misunderstand, Jim. I mean, I can tell right now that you mean what you say, and I don’t doubt that at all. But I’m scared too. Because it’s such a radical change of course for you. For us both, for sure, but particularly for you. I’m scared that after a while you might realise that it might not have been the right choice after all, and I’d hate to think that I influenced you to do something that you might regret later. 

“I’m sorry,” he added quietly, blushing bright red at Jim’s perplexed frown. “That didn’t come out right. I know it’s my own insecurity speaking, and how sad is that? What I really mean to say is that I’m awed at your decision, and it’s wrong of me to doubt you. You already know how I feel about you being in danger, and selfish as it is, knowing that you don’t have to do any more of those missions just because you’re ordered to would be such a relief. Sure, either one of us could have an accident at any time – some stupid unforeseen circumstance or just plain karma biting us in the ass – but at least we would be doing what we want to. Together.” 

He was desperately relieved when Jim smiled softly and simply reached out to gather him into a hug. Love and understanding hummed through their link, and he knew he hadn’t offended his sentinel after all. It was going to be OK. All he had to do was believe it. Oh, he knew full well that it wasn’t going to be a simple exercise. There would be plenty of obstacles placed in their way for sure, because the army wasn’t going to let one of its top sentinel and guide pairs just walk away without a fight, but as long as they were determined enough it could be done. 

After a while, he eased away from Jim, and met the bigger man’s quizzical gaze, his own expression one of pure adoration and gratitude. Holding Jim’s gaze, he slipped gracefully off the sofa and dropped to his knees to kneel between Jim’s spread thighs. Slowly and carefully he reached for the zipper of Jim’s fly and began to lower it, knowing exactly what he wanted to do. 

Jim’s eyes widened in shock, and he gasped in automatic denial at his guide’s obvious intention. He had never asked for nor expected this particular act from Blair, especially after the way the kid had been abused, and he didn’t want to be the cause of further distress. Grasping Blair’s busy hand in his own he murmured, “No, babe! You don’t have to do this! I promised I’d never ask it of you, not after what you’ve been through!” 

But Blair simply smiled softly and shook his head. “I _want_ to, Jim. Because you’re _you,_ not Murphy. Please, let me pleasure you?” 

And what else could Jim say without rebuffing Blair and hurting his feelings? And he did want it so very much. He just had to hope and pray that Blair was truly certain about this. And suddenly he was engulfed in that hot mouth, and it was every bit as mind-blowing and wonderful as he could ever have imagined. Reaching down, he held Blair’s head in his hands, but so gently as Blair worshipped him with reverence and love. The bond sang between them, and when he came with a cry of pure, supreme bliss, Blair took it all, only coming up for air when his exhausted sentinel lover slumped back in his seat, boneless and thoroughly sated. 

Long moments later, when he was finally able to move, Jim opened his eyes and smiled lovingly at the young man still kneeling between his legs; now smiling smugly like the cat that had just gotten the cream. 

“Wow!” he croaked, grinning lazily when Blair smirked impudently back at him. “That was _amazing,_ babe! But are you sure you’re OK? And can I do something for you?” 

Blair’s eyes dropped to his own lap, and he chuckled ruefully at the damp patch there. “You’re welcome, Jim, and no, I’m fine, honestly! I can’t remember when I last came in my pants though! And to think it’s just from pleasuring you. How special is that?” and his smile was warm and open, so that Jim knew that he truly meant what he said. 

“Then I’m honoured, babe. And I think that another shower might be in order, after which we can talk some more, huh? I think there’ll be a lot to discuss and a lot more details to iron out before we drop our bombshell!” 

Blair grinned and nodded happily, rising to his feet and offering Jim a hand. He knew that Jim would do his utmost to make their shower a truly erotic and enjoyable experience for him, which was just the ticket to set them both up for a serious planning session. 

And after that, Jim would get the rest of the team together, because it was only right that they should be informed of his decision as soon as possible.  


\--------------------------  


And now here they were, and Blair could feel his nervousness creeping up on him again as he watched his new friends’ faces grow ever more serious as they waited for their captain to begin. He knew it was selfish of him, but he really hoped that they wouldn’t blame him for Jim’s change of heart. He had grown to like and admire all of them over the short time he had been with the team, and didn’t like to think that they would soon look on him with disdain on account of what they might see as his unsettling influence on Jim. But then he scolded himself for his pathetic insecurity. This wasn’t about him, and he’d do well to remember it and get over himself. 

And then Jim was speaking, and Blair concentrated everything he had on sending as much support and reassurance to his sentinel as he could. 

“Thanks for coming here at such short notice, guys,” Jim began. “I know our first official team meeting was supposed to be tomorrow morning, but I have something I need to tell you, and I wanted to do it as soon as possible rather than keep you in the dark. What I have to say should really go through official channels first, but as far as I’m concerned, I think you have a right to know from the outset. And I trust you all to keep this to yourselves until it is official. 

“Thing is, guys, that I’ve decided to resign my commission with immediate effect. I have my reasons, and I want to make it quite clear that it is in no way the result of anything any of you has done. I have been nothing but proud to serve with you all, and I truly regret the breaking up of our little group, but it’s something I no longer feel able to do. 

“And no, it’s not Blair’s fault, just in case you think he’s been working on me!” he continued with a rueful grin. “I’ve been growing more and more uncomfortable lately with a lot of the things we’ve been ordered to do. Maybe I’ve grown a conscience, who knows? But I also think that it’s partly because I kept going for so long in stubbornly refusing to accept a guide until it was forced on me. Call it a sort of ‘burn-out’ if you want, but even with Blair at my side, I don’t want to do this any longer, and there’s no way I intend to put any of you at risk when I’m no longer confident in my ability or desire to focus as I should on exercises I no longer believe in. And since John’s death means that our team has to be restructured anyway, I think this is the right time for me to call it a day. 

“I’m truly sorry to drop this on you guys, and I’ll do my best to make sure that you stay together, if that’s what you want. But I’ve put my time in, and I want a change. A new direction for both Blair and me away from this man’s army.” 

It was Iain Sturgis who spoke up first, and Blair found himself swallowing nervously as he awaited the lieutenant’s reaction to his captain’s bombshell. The older man looked over at him, his expression speculative, but there was no hint of disapproval in the steady gaze and Blair sighed internally in relief when Iain shifted his gaze back to Jim. 

“I’m truly sorry to hear this, Captain, but I’d be lying if I claimed to be completely taken by surprise. I too have been proud to serve under your leadership, and I can honestly say that I still have every confidence in you, especially now you have a guide. But I guess I can understand where you’re coming from, particularly after John’s death. And I hope I’m not being too forward in suggesting that it could be to do with Blair’s treatment also? I mean, I’ve heard the rumour-mill since we got back, and I gather that Dermot Murphy got away pretty much scot free with only a Dishonourable Discharge. Is that right?” 

“Yeah, I heard that too,” Jesus chimed in. “And that sucks, man! It’s not right. And it’s not right that his buddies got away with nothing but an earful from the CO also. Makes me sick to my stomach that they wear the same uniform!” 

Jim nodded grimly, exchanging a speaking glance with Blair as he answered. “Yeah, Iain, you are right insofar as I can confirm what the rumours say. And no, I can’t condone that pitiful excuse for sentencing on both counts, and I’ve made my opinions known to Colonel Masefield. It is a factor in my decision for sure, but by no means the only one. I think I can honestly say that the real reason is in my perception of how my role as a sentinel has evolved now I have a true guide,” and he smiled at Blair, his eyes warm and affectionate. 

Marvin huffed noisily, then shrugged and grinned wryly as he said, “Well, I guess that’s it then. All I want to say, Cap’n, is congratulations to both you and Blair. You two were obviously made for each other, and this is no place for a gentle guy like Burg even if he did real good in Caracas. I’ll miss you for sure, and I hope that I can keep serving alongside Iain and Jesus, but I wish you luck in whatever you decide to do.” 

Jim’s answering smile was open and happy, his relief at his men’s understanding and acceptance enormous. He was also grateful for their treatment of Blair, knowing how worried the kid was about being blamed for manipulating his sentinel and breaking up the team. Empath or no, Blair never seemed to be able to understand how much affection and respect he engendered in most of his acquaintance. It was only the mean-spirited and cynical that couldn’t see him for the wonderful person that he was. 

“Thanks, guys. I really appreciate your understanding and your good wishes. We both do. Obviously I won’t be leaving immediately, because I’ll have to serve out my notice, but I’ll be doing the deed tomorrow. And after that, Blair and I’ll be putting our heads together to make our plans for the future.”  



	17. Reluctance and Retribution

**Chapter 17: Reluctance and Retribution:**  


**Next morning, Colonel Masefield’s office:**  


“Let me get this straight. Are you honestly telling me you want to _resign your commission?_ But _why,_ Captain Ellison?” Masefield’s face was a picture of astonishment and shock, but neither Jim nor Blair found that they could dredge up one iota of sympathy for the man’s overt dismay. When a frown creased his brow a moment later, the swift glare he shot at Blair was venomous before he met Jim’s gaze again. 

“Surely this isn’t because of what happened to Guide Sandburg, is it?” he offered incredulously. “I mean, yes, I understand that you were less than happy with the outcome of the tribunal, but this is extreme, surely?” 

Despite his otherwise expressionless face, the flash of pity in Jim’s eyes was close to insulting as he replied steadily, “Yes sir. It is indeed one of the deciding factors. But it is by no means the only one. Certainly I find myself unwilling and unable to function any longer within a service that not only treats a small but significant number of its personnel with such cavalier indifference, but also fails to address the matter of abuse when it occurs. But I have also begun to question the ethics of those who choose to send us out on operations that appear to be less and less about national security than about international, political one-upmanship. I am unwilling to countenance the loss of good men – good comrades – for such questionable ends. So I therefore intend to seek out a new, better means in which to utilise my gift, and that of my guide’s also.” 

“Now see here,” Masefield blustered, plainly choosing to ignore the latter part of Jim’s explanation. “What you say might have some truth, but even if you are able to resign without penalty after your years of service, as a draftee, Guide Sandburg has no such option. His term of service is fixed, and he has several more years to run!” 

At that, Jim’s glare shifted to cold and menacing. No way was he taking a baseless threat like that lying down, commanding officer or no. “No, sir, that’s not entirely true, is it?” he began as reasonably as he could – which was only manageable because of his guide’s urgent touch on his arm. He knew Blair was concerned for him, so he battened down his very real urge to get up into Masefield’s face and exercised every bit of his considerable willpower in order to remain in control of his temper. 

“I have looked into this situation very carefully, sir, and you and I both know that, as a fully bonded guide, Guide Sandburg has to remain with his sentinel for obvious reasons. Therefore, if his sentinel chooses to leave the service, he can get special dispensation to accompany him. The full sentinel and guide bond is sacrosanct, sir. As you well know!” 

The implication that Jim knew exactly what his superior had intended when he sent the unsuspecting Blair into Jim’s territory wasn’t lost on the irate colonel. TPTB had determined that Alpha Sentinel Ellison required a fully bonded, highly-rated guide in order to continue to function satisfactorily, hence their cynical disregard for the guide’s own wishes. And now it had backfired big-time, and Masefield knew it. But he wasn’t about to back down quite so easily. 

“OK, Captain. Say I do understand and accept where you’re coming from. Look, I know that there’s nothing that can be done retrospectively about Sgt Murphy’s sentence, but what if I agree to look into the whole question of guide conscription with our superiors? Back you both up in demanding a review? Will that change your mind?” 

Jim stared at him for a moment. The guy was unbelievable. So _now_ he was prepared to stand up for guides’ rights, just because his back was up against the wall and he didn’t want to lose the unit’s most successful and highly decorated – not to mention now fully bonded – sentinel? Too little, too late, and judging by the emotions he was getting from Blair, the young guide agreed entirely. 

Finally, Jim shook his head, his tone almost painfully didactic as if he was explaining a simple fact to a slow-witted child. 

“No sir. That will not change my mind. Certainly it might have helped if it had happened years ago, preferably before the old regulation was re-introduced, but not now. As I said, it’s not the only reason for my leaving, although I intend to work with my guide in a civilian capacity to overturn this despicable programme. My papers are in, and I believe that this interview is over. Sir.” 

Too rattled to respond immediately to Ellison’s barely-respectful words and attitude, Masefield nodded distractedly. He needed to think, and he also needed to contact General Warburton as soon as. So he muttered, “Yes, yes. Dismissed!” and didn’t even watch as the pair saluted smartly and turned to leave this office.  


\---------------------------  


Back in their quarters, Jim and Blair settled down once again on the sofa, both needing to process the content of the interview, and then share their conclusions. There was no going back now, not that either of them would have contemplated such an about-turn, especially after listening to Masefield’s pitifully unsatisfactory offers and excuses. But now was the time to begin planning their future course of action in more detail, and in their own way, both men were actually eagerly anticipating that discussion. 

After several minutes of companionable silence, with Blair leaning comfortably and casually against Jim’s side, the bigger man wrapped his arm around his guide’s shoulders, pulling him in more tightly as he looked down into Blair’s upturned face. Smirking wryly, Jim murmured, “Well, that went well, didn’t it? Not!” grinning at Blair’s snort of amused disdain. 

“Oh, man, I have to say that it was…uh… _different!”_ the younger man replied. “I admit that I expected him to put up a fight, because after all, he’s looking at losing a prime operative, but I can’t get over the fact that it seemed to take him by surprise! I mean, what did he expect? Has no one ever questioned him before on those topics? Or is it only now that he realises that we actually mean what we say, and are set on carrying through with our plans? He must have been labouring under the misapprehension that his status as the base CO made him inviolable!” 

“Beats me, kiddo, but in a way I’m glad he reacted like he did. It convinces me that we’re doing the right thing and for the right reasons, and god help them if they try to stop us! I still know my duty, and it’s to my country and to you, but not to this unit. Not anymore!” 

“From your lips to god’s ears,” murmured Blair pensively. And then he turned in Jim’s embrace to face his bigger lover. “Thanks, Jim,” he said earnestly. “For loving me, and caring for me enough to stand up for me and others like me, and for, well – just being you! I just know we’re going to be OK out in the big wide world. And I’m certain that we can make a difference in more ways than one!” 

“You got that right, Junior,” Jim replied with a laugh. “And you know what? We can start right away, even before my time is officially up. Because I intend to contact Becca Saltmarsh, Pepper’s sister. I told you she was a JAG lawyer, didn’t I?” 

When Blair nodded, his inquisitive expression adorable in his doting sentinel’s opinion, Jim continued. “Well, I don’t care what Masefield said, I’m sure that Murphy’s tribunal and his sentencing can be revisited. I can’t believe that that whole process was legal, and that’s just the start of it. Once we’re out of here, we can blow this whole case wide open. Of course I can’t and never will divulge anything about my service in special ops, but I can and will back you up in telling the whole world about this sick situation. Your average John and Jane Doe might never have heard of guide conscription, but they soon will!” 

Blair nodded despondently. “You’re right there, Jim. _I_ didn’t even know about it until it happened to me! I thought I was safe enough just from signing my Declination papers! How sad is that?” 

“Not your fault, kiddo,” Jim comforted him. “But as it _did_ happen, and you got abused as well to compound the injustice, it’s only right that we’re the ones to blow the whistle on the whole disgusting issue. Obviously I can’t promise that we’ll get the law repealed, but our government won’t be able to deny its existence, or refute the fact that you are a material witness and victim. And just maybe if we make enough noise, others will come forward too.” 

Blair looked away for a moment, considering what Jim had said. Turning back, he met Jim’s gaze and said thoughtfully, “I hope you’re right, Jim. I think that perhaps if we do make a big enough fuss, others like me might well find the courage to step up to the plate. Remember the _#MeToo_ campaign a few years ago? I mean, I have no idea as to how many of Murphy’s victims are out there, or even how many of them actually bonded with military sentinels after all. But there has to be some, and they deserve to be recognised. As do all conscripted guides, abused or not.” 

“Well, once we’re out, babe, we can start by returning to Cascade. I have some savings, and I should get a reasonable severance payment, so we can find somewhere suitable to live as soon as possible. Then we go to the media, and get you reinstated in your doctoral programme at Rainier. You deserve to get that PhD, kiddo, especially if the subject concerns Guides. The more publicity and information out there , the better! 

“And I’ll start looking for a job. I’m thinking of something along the lines of the PD or Fire and Rescue; you know, ‘Protect and Serve’ and all that; but we’ll see what pans out. And what works for you too, of course. We are in this together for the long haul, after all!” 

Blair was gazing at him in wide-eyed admiration by the time he’d finished, but when he replied, it was clear that he had some reservations. 

“That all sounds really great, Jim, and I truly appreciate everything you’ve come up with. But you see, I’m not sure about the PhD stuff. At least, not at Rainier. I mean, I fully intend to contact Eli Stoddard, my mentor, and get him on board about the media campaign. I’m absolutely certain that he and a lot of like-minded students and teaching staff will be only too willing to protest on our behalf. And hopefully the protest will grow and spread from there. 

“But I’m pretty sure Chancellor Edwards will veto any attempt to reinstate me in any capacity, and certainly not as a TA again. She always hated me, and no way would she want me back, even as a grad student. I’ve already caused her too much trouble, and she’ll hate the upcoming publicity,” and he hung his head dispiritedly. 

Jim contemplated him for a long moment, and then placed a finger beneath his guide’s chin to encourage him to look up again. 

“I think I know how to get her to change her mind, babe. Or have it changed for her! See, I hadn’t really thought about it before, but I think I know who to enlist to bring in the big guns on our behalf. I’ve never told you much about my family, have I?” 

When Blair shook his head, curiosity instantly piqued, Jim grinned ruefully. “Yeah, I know it hasn’t really come up before, and I had no reason to think that you’d be interested, but have you heard of Ellison Enterprises, Inc.?” 

Blair’s eyes rounded in surprise. “You mean, William Ellison’s company? Well, sure! He’s on the Board of Governors at the U, and he’s a major benefactor. Is he your father?” 

Jim nodded. “Yes, he is, babe. We’ve been estranged for years now – ever since I joined up, in fact. And to be honest, I had no intention of getting in touch. It’s a long story, which I don’t want to go into here, although I promise that some time I’ll tell you, OK?” He knew very well that Blair would be irritated by his reticence, but the kid would just have to contain himself until Jim was ready to go into more detail. 

Blair frowned, but nodded anyway. It wasn’t his place to pry into Jim’s private life uninvited, even if he could, especially when his sentinel had made it clear that he wasn’t ready to share yet. 

“OK, then, Chief, this is all you need to know for the time being,” Jim continued. “Since Dad is on the Board, I’m pretty sure that he’ll get you reinstated at the U if I ask him to. We might not have a proper father / son relationship, but he won’t see one of his offspring hurt or disparaged in any way if he can avoid it. It may be more because he doesn’t want the Ellison name tarnished, but the reason doesn’t matter. The fact is that, once he knows that I now have a bonded guide, and that guide needs to return to the U to get his doctorate for the benefit of us both, he’ll make sure it happens, whoever this Chancellor thinks she is. And I’m thinking that he might be recruited into our media campaign too if we can convince him that it’s also as much for me as for you. And will enhance his social standing to boot. He takes his reputation very seriously, so I’m willing to approach him if that’s what it takes.” 

For once Blair had no words to express his emotions. That Jim was prepared to go to such lengths just for him was almost overwhelming, so he simply wrapped his arms around the bigger man, glad when Jim reciprocated willingly, and concentrated on sending as much love and gratitude through their shared link as he was capable. And when Jim responded in kind, he was touched to his very soul.  


\---------------------------  


**Several days later:**  


Over the next few days, Jim and Blair’s routine continued more or less unchanged. They both worked at their fitness with the rest of the team, and spent time practicing various controlling techniques to use with the senses under a variety of conditions, as well as testing Jim’s full range for their own information. To Blair’s intense gratification, it seemed that with his backup, his sentinel’s senses were way stronger than either of them had imagined, but both decided that they would keep the actual scores to themselves. No way did Jim want the military authorities know just how powerful he was, in case they decided to try and put more pressure on him to stay. Which was most definitely not going to happen. 

Jim also spent time with his team discussing their future together without him, helping them and making suggestions as to how and with whom they should reform. For sure he still felt guilty about leaving them, but it was time to move on, and to their credit, not one of them had uttered a word of remonstration about Jim and Blair’s choices. 

What was noticeable was that Colonel Masefield seemed to be keeping a very low profile, but neither Jim nor Blair was about to complain about that. The less they saw of him the better, as far as they were concerned, and if he was having troubles of his own, then it couldn’t happen to a better person in Jim’s admittedly cynical view. 

However, unfortunately for them, those same troubles were about to have serious consequences for them also, and in no good way.  


\---------------------------  


They were on their way to Jim’s office in the Admin building, having had breakfast in the Officers’ Mess for a change. The previous night they had made love following another lengthy planning session, and that morning were still too relaxed and sated to be bothered with preparing their own food. Having enjoyed a reasonably leisurely meal by military standards, Jim informed Blair that he had some paperwork to take care of, so they might as well get it done sooner than later. They chatted amicably as they went, until they reached the square in front of the building, when Jim suddenly stopped in his tracks. Immediately concerned, Blair automatically rested his hand on Jim’s bicep, murmuring softly in enquiry as Jim’s face took on the faraway expression that told his guide that he was listening out for something. 

In fact, what Jim had heard was a few disgruntled words coming from some distance away, but he was instantly struck by an instinctive, hackle-raising certainty that there was trouble afoot. Struggling to make sense of the muttered conversation, he was caught unawares when a jeep suddenly came barrelling around the corner and into the square, bearing down on the pair with vicious intent. It was Blair who reacted first, pushing Jim out of the path of the oncoming vehicle with all his strength before diving to safety after him. It nearly worked, except that the wing of the jeep clipped him in passing, throwing him off balance so that his head struck the kerb with stunning force, and he knew no more. 

To the horrified sentinel, everything seemed to happen in slow motion, and that, plus perfect sensory recall meant that it would stay with him forever. One moment he was concentrating on the content of what would turn out to be an incriminating exchange, and the next he was being shoved up onto the sidewalk by his guide. He would never forget the sight of the jeep missing him by inches as the grim-faced driver made his getaway, nor the sound of Blair’s head hitting the concrete kerb. Reaching for the smaller man, he cradled Blair in his arms, trying to halt the flow of blood from a vicious-looking scalp wound as people rushed across the square towards them, having witnessed the incident from the nearby buildings. But nothing else mattered to Jim right then except for the body in his arms and his senses locked on to his guide; going deeper and deeper until he zoned. Hard.  



	18. Fallout

**Chapter 18: Fallout:**   


In retrospect, Jim would come to realise that if such an appalling incident had to occur, it couldn’t have been in a better place in one respect. By the very nature of their chosen occupation, most of the personnel on the base were accustomed to injury and death insofar as they acted quickly and efficiently without panic. And the medical facilities at the infirmary were second to none for the same reason. Within a matter of minutes sentinel and guide were prepared for transport, and were swiftly delivered into the hands of the base’s doctors, all of whom were not only highly qualified trauma physicians in their own right, but were also well-informed about sentinel and guide health needs in both physical and mental terms. 

Thus it was that Blair was quickly prepared for a full series of scans before being treated for anything else but the application of a thick dressing to staunch the heavy bleeding from the scalp laceration, and at no time except for during the actual scanning was Jim separated from him. Knowing full well that both sentinel and guide benefitted from each other’s presence, another cot was set up for Jim next to his guide’s, and once Blair’s injuries had been treated, they were left alone for a while, Jim’s hand clutching Blair’s even while zoned. 

However, the base’s senior psychologist knew that it was unsafe to leave a sentinel in such a deep zone for too long, so with the captain’s own guide being in no condition to rouse his partner, he enlisted the help of a resident Medical Facility guide to assist him. 

Guide Caitlin Dermody was an Army Nurse of several years’ experience in dealing with injured sentinels and guides, and her caring but no-nonsense attitude stood her in good stead when confronting the sometimes unpredictable reactions that occurred. Her empathy rating wasn’t really high enough for her to have been bonded to an active serviceman or woman, but she knew how to get through to a zoned sentinel even if it took a good deal longer than with his own guide. And of course, knowing that Captain Ellison was an alpha meant that this was going to be an even harder task than normal, but she was perfectly willing to do it. He was a hero after all, and deserved her best efforts. She deliberately tried not think about Ellison’s guide, however, not wanting to be too judgemental. G I Guide Sandburg was known to her by reputation, and even though she understood that the pair had bonded fully by mutual consent, she knew of Sandburg’s draftee status. Yes, she had also heard good things about his performance during their last mission, but she still couldn’t help but wonder if he was really suitable for an officer of Ellison’s calibre. But be that as it may, bonded they were, and it was up to her to make certain that the sentinel was in the right condition to support his injured partner. 

She began by raising the men’s clasped hands closer to Ellison’s face, so that he would be easily able to scent and taste his partner’s skin when he woke. She then settled herself comfortably in a chair at the head of Jim’s bed and began to stroke the captain’s muscular arm, exhorting him to wake up in a low but persistent tone. It was likely to take quite some time, but she was patient. He deserved no less of her. 

What seemed like eons later, although it was actually only a couple of hours, Jim gradually became aware of an irritating buzzing in his ears, which eventually resolved itself into insistent, softly-spoken words. But it wasn’t the voice he wanted to hear, and for a while he tried to ignore it in growing aggravation. However, it continued relentlessly, so he forced himself to actually listen to the content, and that, coupled with a stranger’s touch on his arm finally convinced him to take notice. The voice was telling him that Blair needed him, and that was enough to galvanise him into action. _Blair! My god!_ He immediately recalled what had happened, and his eyes flew open to stare hungrily at the motionless figure on the bed beside him, even as he raised the cold hand resting in his to his lips to kiss it gently. Ignoring the small hand on his shoulder that tried to restrain him, he pushed himself upright, only to groan in frustration at the resulting head rush as he flopped back down onto his pillows again. 

“Easy, Captain Ellison. Calm down, sir. You’ve been deeply zoned for several hours, sir, so it’s not surprising you’re feeling a little dizzy!” The soft voice was the same one that had been talking to him before, but there was a hint of steel in it that made him flick his eyes over to the speaker. The pleasant-featured nurse smiled at him, her attitude friendly but totally professional as she stood and moved into his line of sight. “If you’ll just lie there a little longer, I’ll go fetch Dr Branson and tell him you’re awake. I’m sure you’ll want to find out exactly what Guide Sandburg’s injuries are, will you not?” 

Jim nodded in reluctant assent. He did need to know, and now, but was sensible enough to acknowledge that after a zone like that he would be a fool to try and move too quickly again just yet. As long as he could see and feel Blair, that would have to suffice for now. 

“OK, Nurse…er…Dermody,” he growled somewhat ungraciously after reading her name tag. “I’ll stay quiet as long as you get the doc here a.s.a.p.” 

She smiled back at him as she turned to go, saying, “Fair enough, Captain Ellison. I won’t be gone a moment.” 

Jim held her gaze for a moment longer before replying. “Uh, thanks, Nurse. And thanks for getting me out of the zone. It was just you, wasn’t it? Sorry about the imposition.” 

“It was, sir, but you’re welcome. Just doing my job!” and she grinned again and went on her way, almost instantly forgotten as Jim turned his full attention back to checking out his real guide. And this time he had no intention of allowing himself to zone again. Blair needed him awake and aware, not in la-la-land. 

Moving more carefully now, he eased himself higher up the bed so he could study the still figure beside him. Blair’s breathing and heart rate were strong and steady, but he was plainly deeply unconscious, the silence between them, both mental and verbal unnerving for the worried sentinel. He realised he’d grown so accustomed to their shared link that this enforced hiatus felt unnatural. And he had to forcibly squash down a fleeting thought that life without the other half of his soul would be unbearable. That was an option that didn’t bear thinking of if he was to hold on to his sanity. 

Using his senses with exquisite care now so as not to even risk the chance of a zone, he continued to scan his guide. Blair’s face was unmarked, but very pale, his eyes sunken in their sockets and his cheeks darkened by his five o’clock shadow. A thick dressing covered the scalp wound at the back of his head, and he was wearing a neck brace. Leaning forward, Jim carefully ran his free hand down the length of Blair’s body, using sentinel almost-touch to map the injuries beneath the light blanket that covered him. The heat of bruising almost scorched his skin, especially in the region of Blair’s right hip, so that Jim surmised that that was the area where the jeep struck him. He could only thank the gods that Blair had been moving fast enough not to have been hit full on, or they most certainly wouldn’t be here now. His guide had undoubtedly saved Jim’s life, acting as the backup he needed to be in a symbiotic partnership such as theirs, but Jim hated that fact that it had been necessary. He knew that the instinct to protect went both ways, but it went against the grain that his gentle, peace-loving partner should ever be in this sort of situation. They might have begun taking action to make sure that he would never again be exposed to a combat situation, but this was unconscionable. And Jim was going to make absolutely sure that it would never happen again. 

Just then, Nurse Dermody returned, her rubber soled shoes virtually noiseless to anyone but a sentinel. With her came the tall figure of Dr Branson, who smiled sadly as he held out his hand to Jim. “Captain Ellison. Jim,” he said as he shook Jim’s hand firmly. “I’m sorry to see you in here again, and for this reason.” 

Jim nodded in rueful agreement. He had had occasion to be treated by Dr Branson over the years, but never for a sentinel-related incident such as zoning. He looked both irked and somewhat shamefaced as he muttered angrily, “Yeah, Doc, I know. I feel pretty disgusted with myself, but I won’t let it happen again if I can help it. Blair needs a sentinel who can take care of him, not turn into a useless zombie!” 

However, Dr Branson was having none of it, and replied smartly, “And you will, my friend! You can’t blame yourself for zoning under such dramatic circumstances, not with your bond being still relatively new. It stands to reason that right now you’ll be extra aware of your guide, but practice and familiarity will help you remain in control should anything - god forbid - like this ever happen again. But now you are back with us, let me tell you what I can about Guide Sandburg.” 

“Thanks, doc,” Jim said feelingly, still gently rubbing the soft skin on the back of Blair’s hand which remained in his grasp. “Just tell me it’s not as bad as it looks!” he pleaded, his concern clear in his expression. 

“Well, as to that, what I can say is that there’s good news and not so good, so let’s start with the good news first. Although I’m sure your senses will have ascertained most of this already,” he added with a wry grin. “Anyway, since it was a glancing blow that caught your guide, and I understand that he was in motion at the time, the damage to his right hip isn’t as bad as it could have been. There’s plenty of deep bruising, and some lacerations, but nothing is broken. He has some torn ligaments in his right knee which means that he’ll need a wheelchair for a while, and then it’ll be very painful walking for some time after that, but eventually he should be back to normal with some physical therapy. There is no indication of internal injuries either, although again he has more bruising and superficial grazes over quite a large area of his body. 

“However, more worrying is the head trauma, and that is what we need to monitor carefully. The scalp wound has been stitched. It looks messy, but as you know, scalp lacerations bleed copiously, and this one was no exception. But again it will heal cleanly enough in due course with minimal scarring. Far worse, though, is the underlying damage the scans showed up. There is a hairline fracture of the skull, and a possibility of the brain tissue swelling, which we are going to try to prevent or reduce through medication. I would rather not have to operate if at all possible for obvious reasons. But in the meantime, we intend to keep Guide Sandburg in a medically-induced coma for at least another twenty four hours until we are sure the danger of swelling is past. 

“Unfortunately,” he continued, his face and tone compassionate, “we won’t know if there is any lasting damage until Guide Sandburg wakes up. And as yet, I can’t give you any idea as to when that will be.” 

Jim’s eyes closed briefly as he bowed his head, but when he looked up, he met the doctor’s concerned gaze steadily. “Thanks, doc, for your honesty. I know that Blair’s in good hands, and I appreciate the fact that you understand the relationship between a sentinel and his guide. I intend to stay at Blair’s side, because he’ll want me here when he wakes up. But I also need to play my part in getting the investigation underway, and that has to be as quickly as possible. I know who it was,” he growled, his expression growing hard and menacing, ice blue eyes promising lethal vengeance as he added, “So I need to give my statement to the Military Police immediately. Can you arrange that?” 

Dr Branson’s eyes narrowed as he studied the potential killing machine before him, grateful that Ellison’s attentions weren’t focussed on him. He didn’t envy the target of the sentinel’s ire, but neither would he stand in the man’s way. The strength of this partnership’s connection was plain to see, and Branson knew that Ellison wouldn’t rest until justice was served. 

“Fair enough, Captain. I’ll send them right in. I believe that there’s a JAG lawyer here to see you as well as an MP. Just try to keep it down, though, for Blair’s sake?” he added as he turned to go. 

“You got it, Dr Branson, and thanks,” Jim replied, then turned back to whisper to the still figure on the bed. “Here goes, babe. Let’s get this show on the road, huh? I wish I could go and bring the bastards in myself, but I promised not to leave you, OK? Just rest, Chief, and heal quickly for me, huh? I need you to wake up soon, babe. I need _you,_ so very much.”  


\----------------------------  


A few minutes later, Jim looked up to see his visitors approaching, and he automatically scanned them, recognising them for the good people they were. Becca Saltmarsh, smart in her uniform, was a softer-featured, feminine version of her brother, and her eyes held a smile for Jim even if they lacked their usual sparkle, still shadowed by too-recent bereavement. 

Beside her walked the tall, graceful figure of Lieutenant Clyde Rastrick of the Military Police. He too was a sentinel of Jim’s acquaintance, and was accompanied by his guide, Corporal Trish Bailey, a cheerful, bouncy blonde powerhouse who adored her partner as she was adored in turn. As far as Jim was concerned, he couldn’t have wished for a better combination to carry out this investigation, and he smiled tiredly up at them all as they arrived at his bedside. 

“Thanks for coming, guys,” he murmured as Becca leaned down to give him a brief hug and peck on the cheek. “I’m ready to tell you everything I know about this outrage. Grab yourselves a chair, and let’s get started, OK?” 

Clyde Rastrick grasped his hand briefly, the glance he shot at Blair conveying his genuine sympathy and understanding. “Sorry to be seein’ you under these circumstances, man,” he murmured, his gentle, Jamaican drawl belying his sharp intelligence and dedication to duty. “If that was my Trish lyin’ there, I’d be as upset as you, man. So, I’m listenin’, Jim.” 

Jim nodded and smiled sadly in appreciation, and then his expression hardened as he began his statement. After confirming time and place, and explaining his and Blair’s reason for their presence in the square, he described what he had heard, knowing that the other sentinel would trust his claim. Rastrick might not have been as powerful a sentinel as Jim, but he was quite capable of ‘reading’ his witness’s physiological responses, and Jim’s reputation spoke for itself. 

“So, you recognised the voices as belonging to Corporal Jack Wylowski and Sgt Mitch Brannigan, both friends of ex-Sergeant Dermot Murphy, is that correct, Captain?” 

“Yes, Lt Rastrick. And I believe a third voice was that of Corporal David Griffiths. He was remonstrating with the others, but was shouted down. They were talking about my guide. Calling him vulgar and insulting names, and blaming him for being the reason behind their being reprimanded by Colonel Masefield. And for Murphy’s dismissal, of course. And blaming me also, for defending him. They were talking about getting even. Getting their own back. I was trying to hear the rest of the conversation when the jeep appeared around the corner, driven by Sgt Brannigan. I saw everything, even as Blair was trying to push me out of the way. Trying to save my life. Brannigan meant to kill us, Lt Rastrick. Of that, I’m absolutely certain.” 

Rastrick frowned at that, but had to ask for the record. “How do you know that, Captain Ellison? Could it not have been an accident? And Brannigan was scared enough of the likely consequences to panic and hit and run?” 

“No, Lieutenant. It was no accident. The jeep changed direction to come straight at us, and Brannigan was cursing as he drove. I’m sure that, if people hadn’t appeared as quickly as they did, he would have backed up to try and finish the job. As it is, I’m pretty sure you’ll find the jeep hidden amongst the others back in the motor pool, and you’ll be able to check it out for minor damage to the front driver’s side wing.” 

Rastrick stood then, as did his Guide, and he nodded briskly. “I’ll go there right now, Jim, and I’ll get the suspects rounded up immediately. I’ll get back to you as soon as I have something to report, man. Take care!” and they left without further ado, bent on carrying out their duty. 

Jim watched them go, certain that Clyde would have no trouble in locating the vehicle in question if indeed it was back in the motor pool, and sentinel senses would carry out a far more efficient forensic examination than any normal routine. If there was any incriminating evidence to be found, Sentinel Lt Rastrick and his guide would find it. 

Becca touched his forearm then, bringing his attention back to her as she said, “I don’t doubt you, Jim. Not at all. But I find it hard to believe that they could be so dumb! How on earth could they think they could get away with something so stupid? It beggars belief!” 

Jim grinned sadly at her perplexed face. “I don’t think it _was_ planned, Becca. I think it was a spur of the moment thing. I mean, I have no doubt whatsoever that they intended harm to both me and Blair at some point. Probably had some scheme already planned in the pipeline. But when the opportunity presented itself, Brannigan was incensed enough at us to take it. And then panicked when it went wrong. But I promise you, they won’t get away with it. One way or another, they’re going to pay for their blind loyalty to Dermot Murphy!” 

Becca’s lips thinned at that, and she murmured reprovingly, “I didn’t hear that, Sentinel Ellison. But I have other news for you that I think will cheer you up a little. And I’m sure Blair will be pleased to hear it when he wakes up!” she added with touching certainty. 

Jim’s expression softened again at her words, encouraged by her honest conviction. “OK, Becca. Give me the good news. I could do with some right now.” 

What she had to tell him was no doubt the reason behind Masefield’s keeping a low profile recently, and Jim couldn’t have been more grimly satisfied. 

Becca began by explaining that she had looked into the results of the Board of Enquiry, and although she wasn’t certain whether Dermot Murphy could be re-tried since he was no longer in the service, the tribunal itself had been highly irregular, the blame for which could most definitely be laid at Colonel Masefield’s door. Much more tellingly, there was the question of long-term guide abuse carrying on under his very nose. Whatever he claimed, whether he was unaware of it, or simply turned a blind eye to it were equally damning, and he was already looking at being relieved of his command in the very near future. To make matters worse, the fact that he had failed to implement suitable disciplinary proceedings against men who then perpetrated the atrocious attack on Jim and Blair meant that he would probably face disciplinary action himself. It was all well and good him claiming that General Warburton was himself an advocate of guide conscription; the man would undoubtedly distance himself from his subordinate and let Masefield become the convenient scapegoat for all that was wrong in his overall command. 

Of course, it was inevitable that some mud would stick to the general by association, but Jim and Blair could almost certainly do much more damage to his reputation once they began their campaign as civilians, and that thought provided Jim with a good deal of smug gratification. 

Finally, Becca also told Jim that it was almost certain that Masefield’s aide, Lt Blakeway would go down with his commanding officer, even though apparently the junior officer was trying to wriggle out of serious disciplinary charges by dishing as much dirt on Masefield as he could. 

Jim thanked her warmly for everything she had done for him and Blair. It was even better than he had hoped, and all he needed now was for Blair to wake up so he could share in the relief and satisfaction. 

Becca squeezed his forearm comfortingly and gave him another quick peck on the cheek before looking over at Blair’s sleeping form, a sad smile on her face. “You’re more than welcome, Jim,” she murmured. “I’m just glad I could help. Something needed to be done, and you and Blair set it in motion. And I’m sure he’s going to wake up very soon, Jim. He loves you so much; he won’t want to keep you waiting any longer than he can help!” 

Jim offered her a grateful smile. “Thanks, Becca. I hope you’re right,” he replied wistfully, the longing in his eyes clear to see as he too gazed at his guide. 

“I am, I know it, Jim!” she replied firmly as she stood to take her leave. “And I’m sure that Lt Rastrick and Guide Bailey are already hard at work tracking down your attackers and bringing them to justice!” 

“Amen to that, Becca. Amen to that!” and as Becca turned to go, Jim reached over to cup Blair’s cheek in a warm palm. “You hear all that, kiddo? All you have to do now is wake up, so we can celebrate together, OK?” 

But Blair slept on.  



	19. Recuperation and Recompense

**Chapter 19: Recuperation and Recompense:**   


For the next forty eight hours, Jim remained in the infirmary. He slept and ate at Blair’s side, and helped tend to his sleeping partner’s needs, only leaving briefly to take quick showers and bathroom breaks. Although his senses were satisfied enough with the young guide’s physical proximity, his soul cried out for their link, feeling bereft and alone. With the threat of any swelling of Blair’s brain diminishing, he was gradually being weaned off the drugs keeping him in a coma, so Jim talked to his guide almost non-stop, telling him all sorts of secrets and snippets of useless information, because Dr Branson insisted that it would encourage Blair to wake. He also told Blair how much he loved and needed him, begging him to come back to him aware and mentally sound. But he knew that as long as Blair woke up, he’d take him in whatever condition he was in, sure that their love would eventually prove strong enough to heal any wounds either physical or spiritual. 

During that time, he was visited by his team, who all expressed their sympathy and concern about their young friend. Seated with Jim around Blair’s bed, it was Iain Sturgis who began by apologising profusely for not being there for the captain and his guide. 

“I’m truly sorry, Jim,” he began, looking abashed. “I guess you realised that we were watching your backs, huh? But not when we were really needed. We dropped the ball for sure.” 

Marvin and Jesus muttered in rueful agreement, their unwarranted embarrassment touching Jim deeply. 

Jim grinned wryly as he shook his head. “No, Iain. I knew you were all there hovering in the background whenever Blair and I were out and about on the base, and when we were training. And I appreciate it, man. We both did, and for all of your unofficial watch-keeping. And you didn’t drop the ball, guys. In that location, of all places, we should have been safe enough. Hell, we’d just left the Officer’s Mess, and were walking in a very public area! There’s no way you could have anticipated trouble, any more than we did. And there’s no way anyone could predict what craziness was going through Brannigan’s mind when he drove at us. For sure he wasn’t thinking clearly, or he wouldn’t have been so blatant. 

“But just because he’s unbalanced, doesn’t mean I’ll let him off the hook!” he growled. “One way or another, he’ll pay. As will his so-called comrades!” 

His friends all nodded in grim agreement. Jim and Blair might be leaving the service, but the team’s loyalty to their sentinel and guide was as strong as ever, as was their friendship and respect. 

Taking their leave with promises to return as soon as they could, Jim watched them go, his heart warmed by their true friendship and grateful to have had such men; such courageous and loyal comrades under his command. 

It was shortly afterwards, while Jim was giving Blair a sponge bath, that he felt the faintest mental ‘nudge’. Puzzled at first, he suddenly realised what was happening, and stopped what he was doing to cup his guide’s face carefully in his hands. “Hey, babe, is that you?” he breathed, hoping against hope that he wasn’t reading this wrong and that it wasn’t just wishful thinking. “Do that again, Chief. Come on back, baby. You’re so close, I’m sure!” 

He concentrated on sending as much love and encouragement as he could, thrilled to feel another faint but definite response. Blair was trying to reopen their link, even if he was apparently still deeply asleep, as if the spirit was now willing, although the flesh was still weak. To Jim’s way of thinking, it was as if now that the coma-inducing drugs were clearing Blair’s system, and his sleep was a natural, healing one, his mind was once more free to seek out Jim’s, and the sentinel’s joy knew no bounds. Even if Blair wasn’t quite ready to wake up fully, their re-established link was enough to comfort both sentinel and guide in the meantime. 

When Dr Branson arrived to check over his patient, Jim explained what he thought was happening between him and Blair. Whereas the majority of civilian physicians would probably have looked askance and maybe even doubted his sanity, even as a _mundane,_ Branson had enough experience of sentinel and guide partnerships to realise that such phenomena existed. His expression was thoughtful as he checked Blair’s vitals, and he nodded in conditional agreement. 

“You could well be right, Jim. He does seem to be sleeping much more naturally now, and there are definite indications that he’s gradually waking up. Of course, your senses will already have told you that, but since you also have your link to work with, I don’t doubt that what you say is true. Let’s hope that when he does actually open his eyes, he returns to you as before.” 

“I pray you’re right, doc,” Jim murmured feelingly. “But even if he’s not quite the same, he’s still my guide. My soulmate, if you will, so there’s no chance of me abandoning him, even if I could.” 

Branson smiled at that and patted Jim’s shoulder. “I know, Jim. And you know what? I envy you your connection, man. There are very few human relationships outside of sentinel and guide pairings that ever experience such mutual attraction and understanding. And I’m sure that you’ll both have a wonderful life together once you’re away from here.” 

“Thanks, doc,” Jim replied sincerely. “I appreciate your understanding. As I’m sure Blair will once he wakes up!” and he turned to look at his partner, his cornflower blue eyes warm with affection and a gentle smile on his face. Branson watched the pair for a moment, thinking that Ellison was indeed a handsome man, especially when he let his gentler feelings show. And although he didn’t look his best at the moment, the guide was certainly beautiful in his own way. In fact, they were a photogenic pair, and the doctor was minded to think that, once they were back in the outside world, the cameras were going to love them when they commenced their campaign for the abolition of guide conscription. And as far as Branson was concerned, he wished them all the luck in the world. 

Rising to his feet, he patted Jim’s shoulder again. “I’ll leave you two alone again for a while, Jim. But let me know if there’re any significant changes, OK?” 

“You got it, doc,” Jim replied, and went back to his Blair-watching. He felt certain that his guide was getting closer to waking, and he intended to be right here when those gorgeous blue eyes opened for him again.  


\-----------------------------  


In fact it was several more hours until Blair’s eyes finally opened, but during that time Jim was able to feel him mentally growing more alert and ‘reaching’ for his sentinel’s mind. Gradual changes in his physiological responses were eagerly monitored by his impatient partner, whose own eager anticipation was almost reaching fever pitch. When the young guide’s eyelids fluttered, Jim was there, holding his hand, his free hand cupping Blair’s cheek as he willed his lover’s eyes to open fully. 

And then they were open, blinking owlishly in the infirmary’s muted lighting, a small, puzzled frown creasing the wide, smooth brow. 

“Hey, baby, there you are!” Jim breathed, his smile full of love and tenderness. Who’d have thought that big, buff Captain Ellison could have had such a gentle side to him? Probably no one but Blair, and he wasn’t sharing. 

The big blue eyes tracked slowly across to meet Jim’s ardent gaze, and the tiniest smile lifted the corner of the lush lips. “J’mmmm,” he sighed, his voice scratchy and dry-sounding, but like music to his sentinel’s ears. “Y’OK?” 

Jim’s smile stretched from ear to ear as he nodded eagerly, almost lost for words, he was so filled with emotion. Whatever else Blair might or might not recall, he recognised Jim, and that was more than enough for now. 

“Oh, yes, Chief. I’m just fine. Now,” he finally managed to utter, and if there was a suspicion of moisture on his cheeks, he couldn’t have cared less. However, practicalities had to come first, and he murmured, “Do you need a drink, babe? Your throat must feel very dry.” 

Blair nodded, his eyes tracking to the pitcher of iced water on the nightstand, and when Jim poured him a glass, adding a straw, he sipped eagerly at the soothing liquid until Jim took it away again. 

“Not too much for now, babe,” he admonished fondly. “Don’t want you throwing up, now, do we?” 

Blair’s grin was slightly wider now, and his eyes held a hint of affectionate exasperation as he continued to gaze into Jim’s eyes. Jim could feel the love and relief – and curiosity, it had to be said – flowing from Blair’s mind to his, but unfortunately, all too soon reality encroached on their connection, and Blair winced in pain as all his injuries checked in at once. 

Immediately Jim was reaching for the call button. “It’s OK, babe, I’ll get someone to get you some happy juice, OK? You look like everything’s hitting you right now, huh?” 

Blair’s eyes scrunched up as he moaned, but in no time at all, Nurse Dermody appeared at his bedside, her gentle smile genuinely happy as she said, “Hey, Guide Sandburg, I’m so pleased to see you awake. Dr Branson’s on his way, and I’m sure he’ll be prescribing something for your pain, honey.” She leaned down and rested a cool hand on Blair’s forehead, smiling up at Jim as she did so. 

“I know he must be in a lot of pain now, Captain Ellison, but I’m sure that we’ll soon be able to do something about that. And I’m sure you’re thrilled to see him awake again!” 

All Jim could do was nod distractedly in assent, his worried gaze fixed on his hurting guide, but he appreciated her kindness anyway. And then Dr Branson was there, face wreathed in smiles even as he instructed Caitlin Dermody to administer a dose of morphine through Blair’s IV. As they watched, Blair’s face gradually smoothed again as the painkiller began to work, and his eyes closed as he sank back into a peaceful doze. 

“You said you thought he was waking, Jim, and you were right. Can you tell me if he recognised you before the pain kicked in?” 

And Jim smiled in grateful recollection as he nodded again. “Yes, doc. He managed to say my name, and even asked if _I_ was OK! Just like him,” he added affectionately. “And we were able to link properly, so I’m pretty sure that he’s at least mostly alert and aware,” he said more soberly, the relief clear to see on his face. 

“Great news, Jim,” D Branson replied sincerely. “So, I’ll just check him over while I’m here, and I suggest you take the opportunity to stretch your legs and perhaps let your men know the good news? You can call them from here and take a stroll around, even if it’s just up and down the corridors. I think Blair will sleep quite comfortably now for another hour or two.” 

For a moment, Jim wanted to argue, but he realised that the doctor had a point. He’d been sitting at Blair’s bedside for the better part of three – or was it four or more? – days, and his body was demanding a little activity. 

“OK, doc. I’ll do that. Thanks,” and he patted Blair’s hand as he rose to his feet. 

“De nada, Jim,” the kindly physician replied, and Jim stretched luxuriously before heading for the door of Blair’s room, although even as he did so he automatically glanced back to check on his guide. 

Blair was going to be just fine. He knew it.  


\---------------------------  


Over the next couple of days, Blair’s periods of wakefulness grew gradually longer in duration, and the steady improvement in his speech and lucidity was hugely encouraging. With the added help of their mental link, Jim was able to ascertain that his guide actually recalled pretty much everything right up to the point of impact, or at least, recalled the urgent need he had felt to push his sentinel to safety. Unsurprisingly, his gentle lover was deeply distressed by the violent and extreme circumstances and emotions that had led to them being targeted as they were, even to the point of admitting to Jim that he felt a certain amount of guilty responsibility for creating them. And of course Jim had scolded him gently but firmly for his misplaced tenderness. 

“No, babe. You did nothing wrong. You’re the victim here, right the way through from being drafted, abused and bonded to being attacked. Those bozos don’t deserve your sympathy, Blair. They knew what they were doing when they insulted you in the first place, and it’s their bad judgement that they chose to befriend and admire a sick pervert like Dermot Murphy. I know you want to see the best in everyone, babe, but sometimes there’s nothing to see!” 

He knew that Blair wasn’t truly convinced, but the young man had subsided anyway rather than irritate his sentinel further, and they concentrated instead on continuing to make their plans and work on Blair’s recuperation strategy while they waited for the outcome of Becca Saltmarsh’s legal actions and Clyde Rastrick’s investigations. 

Jim already knew that the sentinel Military Policeman had successfully rounded up the three suspects Jim had identified. He had ordered a lock-down as soon as he had spoken to Jim, and had been just in time to intercept the culprits as they tried to leave the base. Although Jim knew that there were at least another couple of individuals in the group openly sympathetic to Murphy’s cause, tracking them down might prove to be difficult unless their so-called comrades shopped them to save their own skins. 

However, when Rastrick returned to update Jim on his progress, he was genuinely pleased to see Blair also awake, as was Trish Bailey. Although Trish was herself a volunteer guide, very happy with her choice of sentinel and her career, she felt very strongly about the abuse Blair had undergone, and was an enthusiastic supporter of Jim and Blair’s proposed campaign to expose the evils of guide conscription. Her grin was therefore wide and infectious as she bent to give the injured man a careful hug, which earned her a sweet smile. 

“I’m so happy to see you awake, Blair,” she said. “You were so brave, honey. Jim must be so proud of you!” 

Blair blushed at that, but murmured bashfully, “It’s no more than you would do though, Trish. But thanks anyway.” 

Both sentinels grinned at their respective guides, glad to see the real respect and affection between them, but then it was time for Clyde to report his news, so they sobered again as he did so. 

“OK, man, well, this is where we are so far. Y’all know already that I caught your three main suspects in the act of trying to leave the base, right? Well, they’re all cooling their heels in lockup waiting for courts martial, but this time the tribunals will be convened once you are both able to testify in person. Becca Saltmarsh will see to that. But between you and me, I think their charging and sentencing will be a slam-dunk this time around, because the evidence against those three at least is incontrovertible. Not only do we have the evidence provided by your sentinel senses, Jim, but you were right about the jeep. Didn’t take me an’ Trish long to pick it out from the others in the motor pool, and I found trace evidence on the front wing of fibres from Blair’s clothing and skin cells whose DNA matches his from his medical records. I’m thinking that Wylowski and Brannigan will be looking at a protracted period of hard time in Leavenworth at the very least, and Corporal Griffiths will get busted back down to private.” 

Jim nodded in grim satisfaction at Clyde’s words. If justice was served, that was the most lenient punishment the perpetrators could expect. And although he had no intention of admitting it, he knew that, if ever they managed to get away with even less, or got out early, he would be waiting…. 

Since they could see that Blair was already wilting, Clyde and Trish said their farewells and left the pair in peace, with promises to keep them updated as the investigation progressed. But before he settled down to sleep again, Blair reached for Jim, to be held in a gentle embrace. 

“Are you OK with that, Jim?” he asked worriedly. “I mean, it’s as much as I would have expected, but I feel you wanted more?” 

Jim grinned ruefully as he dropped a kiss on top of Blair’s curly head, mindful of the injured area. “You know me too well, kiddo,” he snickered. “Personally, I hope they get considerably more, especially Brannigan for attempted murder. But at least with Masefield under investigation also, there’ll be no excuse for not going by the book.” 

“That’s good, man. That’s good,” and Blair fell asleep again, comforted and protected in his sentinel’s arms.  


\------------------------  


The following morning it was Becca’s turn to update the pair, and the news she brought was good indeed. She too was thrilled to see Blair awake, and told him so in no uncertain terms. 

“I’ve heard so much about you, Guide Sandburg – may I call you Blair? John told me about how good you were for Jim here, and said how impressed he was about how well you were doing in training. I’m sure he would have appreciated your courage in action too.” 

Blair blushed scarlet at the praise, but his smile was sad as he replied. “Thanks, Becca. That’s so good of you to say. But I didn’t do all that much really. John was the true hero, and I was so proud to have known him.” 

Her eyes grew a little shiny at his words, but she smiled again anyway. “Don’t do yourself down, honey,” she admonished him gently. “I can tell that Jim here doesn’t agree with you. But thanks for your kind words about John. 

“But anyway, I have news, so listen up!” she continued with a cheeky grin. “First off, I know Clyde Rastrick has updated you about the three NCOs who attacked you. The tribunals will be held as soon as you are able to attend, Blair. I’ve made sure of that! But better news is that Colonel Masefield has been replaced as Commanding Officer of Ft Findlayson as from yesterday. I’m sorry it didn’t happen even sooner, but I had to do some pushing to get General Warburton to act on my recommendations. And on those of my superiors, I have to add. There was no way he could have stayed on, but he was stubborn, I’ll give him that! Lt Blakeway will also be transferred out, but only after he has given testimony at Colonel Masefield’s own trial, because you can be sure that he will also be investigated thoroughly and charged appropriately. 

“So, that’s the state of play so far, and I suspect that the new CO, Colonel Aaron Mitchell, will be coming to see you soon. From what I’ve heard, he’s a good man. Strict but fair, and not inclined to suffer either fools or criminals gladly. I think – hope – that he’ll be a new broom who will clean up the base and restore its reputation.” 

Needless to say, both Jim and Blair truly appreciated everything Becca had told them, and as soon as she had taken her leave, Blair clutched Jim’s hand tightly, his eyes wide and full of love and relief as he met Jim’s fond gaze. “Oh, man. That’s so good to hear, Jim. I feel as if there really is hope now that things will change for the better both here at Findlayson and in the army as a whole. I know it’s been a trial for both of us, and I’d definitely have preferred to have done without this,” he added ruefully, waving his free hand over his battered body, “but in the long run it was worth it.” 

Jim leaned down and kissed the tempting, lush lips gently before replying. “Only you could be so upbeat, babe! But it’s one of the reasons I love you so much. You help an old cynic like me see the good side of things when before I was blind to them, sentinel vision notwithstanding. 

“But now we have something concrete to work towards, and the sooner we can get the tribunals done and dusted and get out of here, the better!”   


\---------------------------------  


With such a tempting goal in sight, Blair threw himself into working towards getting fit enough to testify, although it was slower progress than the impatient young man would have liked. Dr Branson was cautious about letting him do too much, particularly in the light of his head injury, which made him prone to debilitating headaches only too often. A consummate and conscientious professional, the doctor was certain that the headaches would diminish in both frequency and severity as time went on, but in the meantime he had no intention of discharging his young patient until he was satisfied with Blair’s progress, or letting him face the stress of a tribunal. 

However, on the plus side, Blair was now able to visit the bathroom, albeit in a wheelchair and with Jim’s freely offered help, so the catheter had soon been removed, followed by the bedpan and portable urinal, much to the embarrassed young guide’s relief. His appetite was improving also, especially as Jim arranged to have decent meals sent in by his team on occasion, their friends being only too happy to collude with their captain. 

As for Jim, although he still spent the greater part of his time in the infirmary, Blair had insisted that he take care of himself also, which meant getting out and exercising, knowing that his sentinel needed the routine of a good workout in the gym to settle and satisfy both mind and body. It was good for him also to spend time with his friends, who invariably accompanied him to and from the gym, running track, firing ranges or obstacle courses, not wishing to relinquish their self-imposed watch-keeping duties yet even though the threat to both Jim and Blair was presumably now over. And besides, as Blair also pointed out, he had to get used to spending gradually longer periods of time on his own in order to practice strengthening his own empathic barriers. Whereas he would always need Jim to shield him and boost his barriers at regular intervals; as Jim would need his guide’s grounding touch; they also needed to be able to work apart for increasingly longer spells; something they hadn’t actually done since their bonding. 

Admittedly, it had felt strange to both of them to begin with, both experiencing vague feelings of loss and uncertainty, but as the days went on it became slightly easier, although they were both always greatly relieved when they connected again. Having said that, as yet they had never stretched their separation time beyond what was comfortable, needing to practice incrementally while they had the ideal opportunity. 

And Blair didn’t stint in his efforts to get mobile again either. Much of his bruising had faded, and the majority of his scrapes and lacerations had healed so that he was able to concentrate on the physical therapy he needed to begin to use his leg again. Dr Branson had also removed the stitches from his scalp wound, and Jim assured him that his hair would soon grow again to cover the shaved area. But with the best will in the world; and the enthusiastic services of both Jim as cheerleader and the very competent and positive physiotherapist the doctor had procured for him; Blair often felt as if his progress was slow to nil. His hip and leg might not have been broken, but the severe damage to ligaments in both it and his knee made it painful in the extreme to either flex the limb, or put any weight on it. Although he was determined to use his crutches as much as possible instead of the wheelchair, and do the exercises his therapist Laura set him, he often found himself in tears of agony and frustration. 

But he wouldn’t give up. His own stubborn fortitude plus Jim’s unstinting support ensured that he actually made far better progress than Dr Branson had anticipated. 

He was resting once again on his bed after one of his gruelling exercise sessions, Jim sitting beside him, when they received another visitor in the form of the base’s new commanding officer, Colonel Aaron Mitchell. Jim had immediately stood to attention, only to be waved down again as the colonel studied them carefully, his scrutiny intense but unthreatening. 

Jim and Blair also studied their visitor, both in their way quietly gratified by their first impressions. The colonel was of African American origin, and around Jim’s height and build, although not so overtly muscular. At around fifty years of age, the dark, neatly trimmed hair visible beneath his cap was streaked with grey at the temples, the overall effect most definitely distinguished. His features were regular, and when relaxed would surely be most attractive, although at present his expression was controlled and somewhat inscrutable. But his eyes were the most telling, and the dark depths surveying the partners conveyed sharp intelligence and authority without any hint of malice or deceit. 

“Stand easy, Captain Ellison!” he said, the rich tones immediately reassuring. “I apologise for arriving unannounced, Guide Sandburg. I can see that this isn’t the best time for you. But I wanted to see you both for myself as soon as possible, so I trust that you won’t mind me visiting for a few minutes?” 

Of course, both men murmured their assent, and the colonel pulled up a chair, making himself comfortable before continuing. 

“First of all, I want to apologise to both of you, and in particular to Guide Sandburg, for what you have suffered during your time at this base. Whether or not the guide conscription programme issue is a good or a bad thing, there is still no excuse for the abuse which you suffered. And even worse is the revelation that it has been on-going for some time now. That will stop forthwith, I can assure you. All guide recruits, whether conscripted or not, will be treated with the same respect from now on. The discipline on this base has been too lax for too long, and that is unforgivable in my opinion. 

“As you probably already know, Colonel Masefield will be tried on various charges, not least for turning a blind eye to ex-Sergeant Murphy’s behaviour, so you, Guide Sandburg, will no doubt be called to testify at that hearing, as well as at the hearings of Sergeant Brannigan and his cronies. As, of course, will Captain Ellison. I simply wished to assure myself that you will be up to the task. I don’t want any more undue pressure put on either of you.” 

Although he had undoubtedly been feeling the effects of his latest exercise session, and he looked pale and somewhat strained, yet Blair’s answering smile lit up his whole face as he replied. He had been ‘reading’ the colonel while he was speaking, and was satisfied that there was no side to the man. His forthright delivery was honest and genuine, and Blair could feel that he meant every word. This was a man he could trust, and he was happy to do so. 

“Thank you, sir. This means a lot to me, and I shall definitely make sure I am up to the task of testifying. It’s not something I want to do, but it’s necessary, and I accept that.” 

The colonel nodded in approval, impressed by the young man’s courage and fortitude even after all he’d been through. “Thank you, Guide Sandburg. I appreciate your positive attitude. And you, Captain Ellison? How do you feel about all this?” 

Jim had also been scanning the colonel with his senses, and had come to the same conclusions. The man was sincere, and if Blair was willing to trust him, then Jim was also. He had a fleeting thought that if this man, or a man of similar calibre had been his commanding officer, he probably wouldn’t now be on the point of leaving the service, but the next instant he knew that he would leave anyway, and that was purely because he wanted – needed – to be with his beloved guide, and what Blair needed was good enough for him. 

But for now he had one last task to do, and he had no problem in assuring Colonel Mitchell that he was up to it. “Thank you for your candour, sir. And for your compassion towards my guide. I shall most definitely be willing and able to testify, sir. As soon as Guide Sandburg is passed as fit enough to do so.” 

The colonel smiled briefly, and nodded briskly again. “Thank you, Captain Ellison, and Guide Sandburg, both. I appreciate your willingness to cooperate, and only wish that circumstances hadn’t made it necessary. None of this should have happened, but as it did, we must all do what we can to make sure it doesn’t happen again. I am particularly disappointed that the pair of you feels driven to quit the service, but I can understand why. And off the record, I support your desire to try and get the guide conscription programme repealed. No man or woman should be forced to serve unless in times of national emergency. 

“And now I’ll leave you in peace. Good luck to you both,” and he rose to his feet, as did Jim, and returned Jim’s sharp salute, his eyes betraying a brief flash of amusement at Blair’s sketchy attempt from his position on the bed. 

Once the colonel had left the room, Blair turned to Jim, his expression a mix of elation touched with a hint of nervousness. “Are you really OK with this, Jim?” he asked. “I mean, I was really impressed by Colonel Mitchell, and I know you were also. Does this perhaps make you think you might change your mind? I could understand if it did…” he tailed off uncertainly. 

Shaking his head in fond exasperation, Jim reached for him and pulled him into a careful hug. “Oh, Chief, what am I going to do with you? OK, yes, I admit that if Colonel Mitchell had been my commanding officer all along, then maybe I would think about staying. But then again, you wouldn’t have been hurt either, would you? But since you were, and what hurts you, hurts me, then we’re doing the right thing, babe. All we need to do now is get you fit enough to testify, then we’re out of here!” 

And a very relieved Blair knew that his sentinel meant every word.  



	20. Tribunals and Tribulations

**Chapter 20: Tribunals and Tribulations:**   


It was to be several more days until Dr Branson would even consider allowing Blair to undergo the stress of testifying, so in the meantime, the young man kept doggedly at his exercise regime, greatly impressing Jim, his friends and the medical staff also, even though he had absolutely no idea of the effect he had on others. As far as he was concerned, progress still wasn’t fast enough, seeing as he had such an important goal to aim for. And that wasn’t so much being well enough to attend the various tribunals he was required to, but more the ultimate prize of finally being able to leave the service and seek a new life with his sentinel and lover. A man who had not only become the centre of his universe against seemingly insurmountable odds, but without whom he knew he couldn’t survive, and wouldn’t want to anyway. What he didn’t know, however, was that his lover was also working diligently at achieving another goal – or actually, several goals – for the benefit of both of them. 

Although Jim and Blair had discussed several possible courses of action they could take after quitting the army, there was one in particular that Jim wasn’t looking forward to, and that was approaching his father. He had mentioned it to Blair, of course, but hadn’t really taken it any further, in all honesty loath to take that first step in case it led to one more unpleasant confrontation with his estranged parent. There was also the fact that he didn’t want to build Blair’s hopes up unnecessarily while the young guide was still somewhat fragile, which was the excuse he used to assuage his guilty feeling about keeping secrets from his partner, weak though it undoubtedly was. 

However, he had given the whole subject of their futures a lot of thought whilst sitting at his injured lover’s bedside, and had come to the reluctant conclusion that William Ellison just might have the best answers to some of their problems if he had the courage to take the first step. He would apologise to Blair later about doing it pretty much behind his back, but if it backfired on him anyway, the young man didn’t have to know. Unless, of course, the perceptive little shit realised that his lover was hiding something and prised it out of him anyway. In the meantime, he was prepared to bite the bullet and make a call, and while Blair was otherwise occupied with an intensive therapy session, that was what he intended to do under the pretence of going to the gym for a workout. 

As it was a Saturday morning, Jim guessed that his father would probably be at home. If he still followed the same routine, he would be doing a little work in his den before going out to the Country Club for a bite of lunch and a round of golf with his cronies, so if Jim wanted to catch him, this was the best time to do it. 

As it happened, William answered at the second ring, almost as if he was anticipating a call. “Ellison here, what can I do for you?” 

The familiar voice and peremptory response caught Jim unawares, and for a second he felt like he was ten years old again, and in big trouble, but he quickly shook himself out of his brief funk. “Hey, Dad. It’s Jim. Uh, how are you?” 

He could almost sense his father’s astonishment and incredulity through the phone’s handset, and hoped that it wasn’t a bad sign. However, when William replied, it would seem not, even though the normally stern and forthright businessman seemed incongruously diffident. 

“Jimmy? Jimmy, son, how are you? Are you all right? Not injured?” 

“No, Dad, nothing like that. Ah, it’s just that I wanted to ask you something. For some advice really. I mean, I know it’s completely out of the blue, so if you haven’t got the time, I’ll understand.” 

“Of course I have time, Jimmy. It just took me by surprise is all. I mean, I never know when you’re going to be…ah…doing whatever it is you do out of the country! And yes, I know you can’t tell me anything about it, son, or else you’d have to shoot me!” 

Jim was flabbergasted for a moment. Who was this, and where had they hidden the pod? If he wasn’t mistaken, his father had actually made a joke. Who’d a thought? 

He just had to chuckle, and could almost feel his father relaxing at the other end of the line. However, he still wasn’t sure about how William would react once he had learned all Jim’s news, so he braced himself for possible ructions. 

“Well, Dad it’s like this. Thing is, I finally had to get a guide. My senses were getting more and more difficult to control, so I was issued with a guide so I could keep working in the field. Long story short, we bonded, and are very happy together. But there was lot more to it than that, and now we’re both looking to leave the service. And that’s why I’m calling, Dad, because I think you could give us some good advice as to how to proceed.” 

He could almost hear the mental cogs whirring in his father’s brain as the older man absorbed his information, so wasn’t really surprised as to how the canny businessman responded. 

“Uh, that’s good news, Jimmy. About getting a guide, I mean. But would I be right in thinking that this guide is male? I mean, don’t get me wrong, Jimmy. I know you’re well aware of my negative opinions in the past, so I just want to reassure you that even if I don’t really understand it, I can now accept such relationships, OK? I’ve learned a lot about sentinels over the years, Jimmy, even though it was too late to make any difference to our relationship, and I’m sorry about that. But if you’ll give me a chance, I’d like to try again.” 

Taken aback by his father’s candour, Jim replied, “That’s good to know, Dad. And yes, my guide is male. His name’s Blair Sandburg and he’s very attractive and smart as a whip. And he has suffered greatly both before and after bonding with me, and I intend to do something about it. We want a life together that doesn’t involve special ops, but that will still fulfil our need to protect the tribe.” 

“I think you’d better tell me everything, Jimmy,” William replied. “I’ve got the time, and once I’ve heard exactly what I’m dealing with, I can give it some thought.” 

And so Jim began, leaving nothing out. He explained about Blair’s abuse, and what they wanted to do about the anti-conscription campaign once they were out of the service. He also told William about his guide’s studies at Rainier, and how much he still wanted to get his PhD there if at all possible. And he also mentioned what he wanted for himself, which was a career with something like either the PD or Fire and Rescue Service. As long as it could be achieved with his guide by his side. That was non-negotiable. 

William was silent for a long moment, plainly thinking hard, but when he replied, Jim was relieved to note that his father didn’t sound accusatory or disdainful, which he realised rather shamefacedly that he had been half expecting. 

“Well, Jimmy, you’ve certainly given me plenty to think about, but I did ask! One thing, though. I had hoped that perhaps you might consider coming into the business with me after all, but by the sound of it, I’d say that was a long shot, eh?” 

“’Fraid so, Dad,” Jim chuckled ruefully. “I know it’s not what you want to hear, but truly, the company’s not for me. But I gather Steven’s settled in well, so at least you have one of your sons there ready to take up the reins when you do eventually decide to take a little time off!” 

William laughed aloud at that. “That’s true, Jimmy. He has a good business head on his shoulders, and we’re getting on just fine. It’s just that I’m selfish enough to have liked both of you with me,” he added a little wistfully before continuing honestly, “but I know that that’s mostly my own fault for being too harsh with you boys. Hindsight is a wonderful thing, and I just hope that this time I’ll be able to support you and this young guide of yours as I should.” 

“That’s all I can ask, Dad,” Jim answered, the conviction in his voice clearly heard by his parent. “Thanks for listening to me, and perhaps we can get together once we’re out of here. We fully intend to make our home in Cascade, and I’d like you to meet Blair. I think you’ll like him!” 

“I think I probably shall, Jimmy. And I’ll look forward to it. Meanwhile, leave this with me, and I’ll do some research into a few things and get the ball rolling, OK?” 

“Thanks, Dad,” Jim replied feelingly. “See you soon.” And as he put the phone down he felt lighter than he had in years. Now he just had to tell Blair what he’d been up to. Even if William couldn’t do all that much for them, at least they had reconnected, and just maybe they could truly build some new bridges between them. He could but hope, anyway.  


\--------------------------  


A few days later Blair was overjoyed when Dr Branson finally decided that he was at least able to return to his and Jim’s own quarters at last, providing, of course, that he return to the infirmary for regular follow-up checks and therapy. He had been going quietly stir crazy, because although Jim spent as much time with him as possible, he desperately needed to do something other than either lying around resting or doing his exercises. Part of the trouble was undoubtedly down to his head injury, because he found that he couldn’t even read the lightweight novels Jim brought in for him for any length of time before getting a headache, and he really needed something to get his teeth into. Jim understood and sympathised with his frustration, knowing that his guide’s agile mind needed to keep active; ruefully aware that you could take the man out of academia, but you couldn’t take the academic out of the man. 

However, the latest scans showed that the hairline fracture in his skull was knitting well, and the doctor saw no reason why he couldn’t be released into Jim’s care, so it was with great joy and relief the pair returned to their quarters, which felt almost like home when compared to the infirmary. 

And of course, the very best thing about it was the shared bed, and they wasted no time in christening it once again. Cuddled together, Jim made gentle love to his guide, and they shared a much–needed mutual release, their connection humming in smug satisfaction after so long with nothing more to sustain it but the most minimal physical contact. And in the cosy aftermath, they discussed the latest developments in William Ellison’s activities on their behalf. 

Jim had somewhat shamefacedly ‘fessed up to approaching his father, expecting at least a little hurt and reproach on his guide’s part for not being consulted first. However, although he had admitted to feeling a bit upset initially, Blair had been far more concerned about Jim’s emotional state after reconnecting with his parent after so many years; so glad that it seemed very likely that some sort of real reconciliation was on the cards. To his way of thinking, family was a great gift, and as the only son of a free-spirited, footloose single mom, he secretly envied the fact that Jim had a father and brother, and was all for Jim getting back in touch with them. 

Dropping a kiss on the crown of the curly head resting on his chest, Jim murmured, “You OK, babe? Not too sore after all this time?” 

He felt Blair’s smile against his skin as the smaller man shook his head slightly, draped as he was over Jim’s body like the very best Blair-blanket. “Nothing I wouldn’t want, Jim. That was wonderful, and just what we needed. I’m so glad to be here with you again. Not that the medical staff weren’t really good to me, and I truly appreciate how Dr Branson looked after me, but this is what I really needed. Now I feel whole again.” 

Jim grinned in response. He knew exactly what his guide meant, and he just thanked the goddess that Blair had returned to him more or less recovered and intact. Of course, that meant that they would soon have to face the stresses of testifying, but he knew that they both considered it a necessary evil to be dispensed with so that they could leave and get on with their own lives again. And that was what he wanted to discuss with Blair now. 

“Wanna hear the latest from Dad?” he asked, knowing full well that Blair’s interest would instantly be piqued. Sure enough, the young man wriggled carefully down his sentinel’s long body a little more so that he could position himself more comfortably on Jim’s chest, his chin resting on his folded hands as he met his big lover’s affectionate smile. 

“You bet, Jim! I’m so looking forward to meeting him. Uh, that is, if it’s what you want?” he finished a little uncertainly. 

“You know better than that Chief,” Jim scolded him gently, faintly exasperated by the younger man’s persistent lack of self-confidence. “I have every intention of introducing you. Admittedly, it’s not something I would ever have expected to be able or willing to do, but I can tell he’s changed, and I want to give him every chance to improve our relationship. And me too,” he added frankly. “I know I was half the problem, but being bonded to you has made me more self-aware, and more tolerant, and I thank you for that,” and he leaned down enough to plant a soft kiss on Blair’s tempting lips, glad to see the happy smile return to the beautiful face. 

“Anyhow,” he continued. “When I called Dad yesterday, he told me that he’s managed to make quite a bit of progress on our behalf. I suggested to him that he get in touch with your mentor, Dr Stoddard, to see how the land lies about you returning to the doctoral programme. And he says that that the man waxed positively lyrical about your intelligence and your person, babe! He has all your belongings stored in his garage, and he was absolutely thrilled to hear that you would soon be out of the army. Um, apparently he wasn’t so thrilled to hear that you’re fully bonded, but when Dad told him to whom you’re now bonded, and explained about everything that had happened to you, he was truly upset, and determined to do something about it. I think you can safely say that Eli will be stirring up the campus to support our campaign, babe.” 

“That’s great news, Jim, and I’m so grateful to your Dad for setting things in motion. Even if I can’t return to my studies there, I hope that enough staff and students will protest about guide conscription to make the Board of Governors sit up and take notice, at least. And maybe they’ll start by withdrawing their invitation to the mobile recruitment unit visits.” 

“I think the effects will be greater than that, Chief, if I know Dad. He’s on the Board of Governors himself, remember, and I would be very surprised if he didn’t use his influence to persuade the appropriate people to let you pursue your studies again for starters.” 

Blair smiled softly at that. “That would be wonderful, Jim. But even if it doesn’t happen, I’m so grateful that he would go to so much trouble for me.” 

“And why shouldn’t he, babe? It’s no more than you deserve. But anyway, he told me he’s also making waves in the Country Club and the local social and business scene, so all being well we’ll already have at least some support by the time we arrive in Cascade. And if nothing else, we won’t be starting from scratch when it comes to publicity. Public awareness is what we need, and I think that with his help, we’ll get a lot more than we’d hoped for.” 

Blair was smiling broadly now. “Oh, man! That’s such good news, Jim! I never would have believed that we could make such progress so soon. It really gives me hope that this campaign might take off. We just need to get these tribunals over, and then we can get on with our lives!” 

“Amen to that,” his fond sentinel murmured, hauling his young lover carefully up for a prolonged kiss. “Amen to that!”  


\--------------------------  


It was a mere two days after Blair’s release from the infirmary that Colonel Mitchell came to call again. Although he respected the guide’s need to recuperate fully before facing the rigours of testifying, he also needed to get the tribunals underway as soon as possible. It wasn’t the sort of unfinished business he wanted hanging around when he had plenty to do to get the base ship-shape and running smoothly again. Both Jim and Blair appreciated his position, even as they appreciated the amount of time he had already allowed them to take, so Blair had no hesitation in agreeing to testify as soon as required. 

“I understand, sir, and I thank you for granting me time to recuperate. I’m ready to testify whenever you want me to, sir. I realise that it won’t be easy, but I’m determined to see it through.” 

The colonel had no trouble discerning the sincerity in the young man’s demeanour and tone, and he nodded in quiet approval. “Thank you, Guide Sandburg. I applaud your courage, young man, and I think it is best for all of us to get this done with as soon as possible. I expect that you will be called to testify at Colonel Masefield’s hearing within the next day or so, and the Sergeants’ hearings very soon after that. And now I’ll leave you in peace. Thank you both once again,” and with that he let himself out, leaving two very pensive men behind him. 

“Are you sure you’re ready, babe?” Jim couldn’t help but ask. He had heard Blair’s heart rate increase dramatically at Mitchell’s request, and there was a distinct tang of anxiety in his otherwise addictive scent. However, he was so proud of his lover’s dogged determination, and just wanted to reassure himself that Blair truly was up to the task. 

Blair turned to him and hugged him before pulling back to look up into his worried gaze. “I’m fine, Jim. Well, not really, but you can already tell that anyway, can’t you?” he said with a wry chuckle. “But truly, Jim, I can do it. I _want_ to do it, because I’m so ready to get out of here, man! I need to see justice served, but I also need to be able to concentrate on our new lives together, and I can’t do that with this business hanging over our heads.” 

Jim nodded in grim understanding. He didn’t have to like the idea that his beloved guide was going to have to relive his suffering in front of a bunch of strangers, but he knew that the young man wouldn’t be satisfied until he had done his duty, and Jim just had to respect that, and admire him for it.  


\-------------------------  


Colonel Mitchell was as good as his word, and two days later saw Jim and Blair approaching the administration building where the tribunals were to be carried out, escorted by Iain Sturgis, Jesus Ramirez and Marvin Danilo. Much to his disgust, Blair was in his wheelchair, but since he wanted to walk into the provisional courtroom on his own two feet, he had to accept that he wasn’t yet strong enough to complete the distance between their quarters and the admin building on crutches and expect to arrive in any condition to face the members of the Board of Enquiry. 

As expected, the first hearing was for Colonel Masefield, and in truth it was every bit as harrowing for the young guide as both he and Jim had expected it to be. However, he made his statement and answered the Board’s questions with pale-faced determination and quiet dignity, and no one there could do anything but admire his fortitude. And although he was literally shaking in reaction by the time he was dismissed, his still weakened body objecting to the stress in no uncertain terms, his sentinel gathered him into his strong embrace and told him how very proud he was of Blair’s performance under such trying circumstances. 

Soon afterwards, while Blair sat in the waiting area, once more in his wheelchair and surrounded by his friends, Jim delivered his own testimony. And as it turned out, that, coupled with Blair’s telling deposition and other evidence that had been procured; not least through Lt Blakeway, who was trying to save his own skin; was more than enough to convince the Board of the colonel’s guilt. Even though the man continued to insist that he knew nothing of Sgt Murphy’s long-term abuse, the fact that he had failed to deal with Blair’s assault in a robust and timely manner in order to cover his own ass was unforgivable. That, coupled with his failure to adequately discipline men who then went on to threaten the lives of the sentinel and guide who had filed complaints against them was damning indeed. Found guilty of perverting the course of justice, failing to conform to regulations and failing to keep proper control over his command, his career was finished, and he was thrown to the proverbial wolves. 

After sentence was handed down, Becca Saltmarsh, who had been actively involved in the proceedings, came to see Jim and Blair before they returned to their quarters. Quietly satisfied by the outcome of this first tribunal, she congratulated both Jim and Blair on their performances, giving Blair in particular a hug of genuine appreciation for his bravery. “Thank you, both of you,” she said with a warm smile. “That was something that should have been done years ago, but better now than never. And it wouldn’t have happened at all without you two. Masefield will get the harshest sentence possible, but we all know that the shit starts much higher up. He’s just the convenient scapegoat at the moment. But I think that eventually it’ll start to stick where it belongs, especially once you two get that campaign moving. You should both be proud of yourselves!” 

“Thanks, Becca, that’s good of you to say,” Jim replied warmly. “But right now I think this young man needs to get back to quarters! He needs to rest up before the next round!” 

They both chuckled affectionately at Blair’s poor attempt at frowning indignation at being talked over as if he were a small child, but the young guide couldn’t maintain it in the face of their genuine care for him. 

“Thanks, I think, guys!” he snarked, unable to completely suppress his own rueful snickering. “Home, James, and don’t spare the wheelchair!” 

To which Jim replied smartly, “As you wish, My Guide!” and took off at a fast clip, eager now to get back to their quarters and reconnect with his partner in the best way, and leaving a trail of knowing but uncomplicated laughter in his wake.  


\-------------------------  


In truth the next few days proved to be incredibly trying for both men, although they remained steadfast in their determination to see the tribunals through to the bitter end. Blair found it particularly hard to relive the moment of Brannigan’s attack, so scared for his sentinel’s life had he been at the time. But it wasn’t just that he had to contend with. His tender heart and gentle soul felt bruised by the knowledge that he personally could engender such bigotry and hatred in so-called fellow servicemen just for being what he was, and to be forced to listen to their diatribes over and over again during the proceedings was painful indeed. 

However, at the end of the day, his courage in the face of such malice, plus his and Jim’s steady and consistent testimonies resulted in justice being served, and all three NCOs were convicted as appropriate to their crimes. Brannigan was handed a life sentence at Leavenworth with no parole for attempted murder with a proviso that he receive psychiatric help. Wylowski was given 25 to life for aiding and abetting, with no chance of parole before the minimum time was up. 

On the evidence of the conversation overheard by Jim just before the attack, Corporal David Griffiths was treated more leniently on the grounds that he was remonstrating with his friends, trying to get them to back off from actual bodily harm. However, since he had made no effort to distance himself from the group, or inform on the would-be perpetrators, he was sentenced to five years’ hard labour and busted down to private. 

All in all it was a satisfactory outcome, but still left Blair feeling somehow sad and dirty, as he confessed to Jim. 

And all Jim could do was surround his hurting guide with all the love and comfort he deserved, knowing that they would only truly begin to heal once they were away from Ft Findlayson once and for all.  



	21. A Life Worth Living

**Chapter 21: A Life Worth Living:**   


**Several months later, #307, 852 Prospect, Cascade, WA:**  


Blair pottered around the kitchen, fixing dinner and humming happily to himself. He really hoped that it would turn out to be something of a celebration, but even if Jim’s news wasn’t quite what they hoped for, Blair thought that Jim’s favourite home-made lasagne would be a nice consolation prize anyway. And of course, if his sentinel would like some rather more physical consoling or celebrating, well, Blair would be more than happy to supply that too. 

He paused for a moment, feeling a slight niggle of neediness, and grinned to himself as he recognised the sensation only too well. Jim and he had been apart for most of the day, and although they were both getting much better at being alone for a few hours, there was always a point where they began to miss their physical and mental connection. Not that he was particularly worried, however. He knew that Jim was OK, and in no danger, and that was a real plus point as far as they both were concerned. Because their spiritual link was strong enough now that even at a distance they would know if the other was in trouble. It was just that good between them. And who’d have thought that he would ever actively welcome such a tie to another? Not him, for sure. But here he was, bonded to an alpha sentinel, and loving it. 

With the meat sauce bubbling on the stove, and soft rock playing in the background, he decided to have a few minutes’ relaxation before putting the dish together, so he poured himself a glass of red wine and sat down in the lounge, taking a moment to look around him at his surroundings, and appreciating the view. 

The loft apartment that had been their home now for nearly six months was a mutual choice. Light and airy, it suited the sentinel’s needs as well as Blair’s, being on the third floor of a converted factory / warehouse. The view from the balcony towards the waterfront was stunning, and Blair had remarked only half-jokingly that it was eminently suitable for a sentinel wishing to look over his territory. And the fact that it had a large mezzanine bedroom and well-appointed kitchen had also appealed to them when they had searched for a new place together. Yes, Blair was more than happy with it, particularly as he considered it to be his first real home. 

He took a sip of wine, enjoying the rich smoothness, and knowing that Jim would like it also. And as he sat, he allowed his mind to roam free, pondering upon everything that had transpired since they had left Ft Findlayson. Because it truly had been a rollercoaster ride, and it hadn’t finished yet.  


\---------------------------  


They had finally left Findlayson a mere three weeks after the tribunals were over. Although officially Jim could actually have left almost immediately, they had waited until Dr Branson was truly satisfied that Blair was fit enough to be discharged. He knew very well that the young guide was itching to leave, but he was too conscientious to allow it until he was sure that Blair’s headaches really were diminishing, and that his mobility had improved dramatically. In retrospect, Blair knew he had been less than happy or cooperative at the time, but he respected the doctor’s professionalism, and the fact that Jim had backed up his medical opinion had convinced him to concede defeat. But only for the minimum time necessary, and as soon as they had received the go-ahead, they had left, almost without a backward glance. 

However, they were both reluctant to leave their friends behind without at least a farewell night out, and they had all gone to the bar at Baker’s Ford for one last celebration. And as it happened that Blair had just turned twenty one, it became a coming-of-age party also, and Blair couldn’t help but smile as he recalled the bittersweet occasion. 

That time it had been Jim who drove them all in the jeep, knowing that Blair would want to have a proper drink even if not too many on account of his still being less that 100%. And it had turned out to be a surprisingly enjoyable evening, with Iain, Marvin and Jesus all going out of their way to buoy up each other’s spirits and express genuine good wishes for Jim and Blair’s futures. A surprising number of other off-duty servicemen and women also came over to wish them both well, which touched Blair deeply. Buzzed by the three beers he had had, Blair had hugged the other team members when it was time to go, knowing that their friendship and loyalty in particular had been so important to Jim, and then to him also, and that he would never forget them or their kindness and support when he had needed it most. 

And then two days later they were on their way to Cascade, driving towards an unknown future, but looking forward rather than back. 

“Penny for them, Chief,” Jim had murmured, glancing over at the quiet figure in the passenger seat. “You feeling OK, babe?” 

And Blair had smiled a little sadly as he replied, “I’m fine, Jim, honestly! As if you didn’t know!” he added cheekily. “Just thinking, is all, lover. And I guess I’m a bit nervous too. I mean, it was really cool of your father to offer to let us stay with him until we get settled, but what if he doesn’t like me? I mean, I’m not everyone’s cup of tea; I know that.” 

“I don’t think that’ll happen, babe. I think he’ll love you. But if it doesn’t work out, we’ll be out of there, OK? If this reconciliation is to happen, it’ll depend on him accepting you; not only as my guide, but as my life partner too. If he can’t live with that after all, then we’re gone. I won’t have you ignored or insulted, OK?” 

Blair’s smile had widened then as his expression conveyed his love and gratitude. “Thanks, Jim. But I really hope that he does like me, because I would hate to be the reason for your reconnection failing.” 

And Jim had reached over and patted his knee reassuringly. “You won’t be, kiddo, I’m sure of it!” 

Thinking back, Blair just had to grin, because it actually had turned out just fine after all despite his nervous anticipation. When they had arrived at William’s impressive mansion, he had met then at the door. And when Jim had introduced his guide, Blair had held his hand out politely, only to be pulled into a hug. Blair had realised immediately that Jim was completely flabbergasted, especially when his father did the same to him. But it was obvious that William was genuinely pleased to see them, and fully intended to do his very best to make this work. And it had.  


\---------------------------  


As soon as they had entered the house, William had introduced Blair to Sally, his diminutive long-time housekeeper. Jim had already told Blair that the kindly woman had done her best to be a mother-figure to Jim and his little brother Steven after their own mother had walked out on them, and she was clearly devoted to the family. And she had absolutely no trouble extending that devotion to her new ‘son’, and within minutes they were all settled in the kitchen enjoying fresh coffee and newly baked cookies. 

William had immediately begun explaining what he had set in motion, beginning with his meeting with Dr Eli Stoddard. Although initially their only common factor had been Blair’s welfare, apparently the erudite professor and hard-headed businessman had hit it off, becoming firm friends and willing co-conspirators, eager to see Blair at least reinstated to the doctoral programme, and also throwing their combined weight behind the campaign to expose the evils of guide conscription. 

Using his influence on the Board of Governors, William had had little trouble persuading Rainier’s administrators to welcome back their long lost grad student to the U despite Chancellor Edwards’ disgruntled protestations, although whether or not there would be a teaching position available was less certain. However, Blair was more than grateful for the concessions already made for him, and thanked William profusely for his help, much to the older man’s embarrassment. William had then explained a little diffidently that he had taken the liberty of having all Blair’s possessions collected from Eli’s garage, and they were now stored at William’s house awaiting such time as Jim and Blair found their own place. 

Such unexpected kindness and forethought had been almost too much for the young man to take in, but Jim and William had shown remarkable tact and understanding, and the conversation had continued with William’s suggestions about progressing their campaign while Blair took a few moments to get his act together again. 

The older Ellison had reported that Eli had advised him that there was already a groundswell of dissent amongst the student body and teaching staff following Blair’s perceived ‘abduction’, so it hadn’t taken much to light the fires of active protest. And although neither Jim nor Blair wanted or advocated any sort of violence, a petition had already been presented to the mayor and city council, and the local TV station was anxious to interview sentinel and guide as soon as possible. It was more than Jim and Blair had believed possible in such a short space of time, and their gratitude knew no bounds. 

Rising to his feet to turn off the burner beneath the meat sauce and begin to assemble the lasagne, Blair recalled with satisfaction how quickly things had progressed from that point. 

Although decidedly nerve-wracking, that initial TV interview had turned out to be a resounding success. The reporter, Wendy Hawthorne, was an enthusiastic, ambitious go-getter, who saw this exposé as a potential career-making opportunity, so threw all her energy into making it work. As Dr Branson had expected, both sentinel and guide were incredibly photogenic, and as they responded to Wendy’s carefully scripted questions, their eloquence and dignity touched public sympathy far more than angry diatribes and maudlin self-pity could ever have done. As a result, national TV quickly jumped on the bandwagon, and the campaign soon took off to Jim and Blair’s enormous satisfaction and relief. It certainly didn’t do Wendy’s reputation any harm either, for which she was gleefully gratified. 

As they had thought, there were few people who had been actually aware of the guide conscription programme, and of those, even fewer had any inkling of the existence of abuse. Once out in the open, growing public awareness soon caused a nationwide reaction. Those in authority, from local councillors to state governors quickly embraced the issue in order to enhance their PR status, while many others, particularly in the government and military scrambled to distance themselves from the negative fallout. 

With the positive publicity, however, gradually more guides stepped forward to add their sad stories to the body of evidence, and in a remarkably short space of time, the campaign became something of a ‘cause célèbre’ amongst the Great and Good. 

Although it was yet to be seen whether the government would actually repeal the law any time soon, Blair was confident that it was no longer being actively utilised, and that guides such as himself were now relatively safe from exploitation.   


\----------------------------  


Humming cheerfully as he worked, and knowing instinctively that Jim was on his way home, he turned his thoughts to their own progress outside of the public eye. 

Even though William had been more than hospitable, Jim and Blair had soon turned their attention to finding a place of their own. They felt constrained and uncomfortable indulging in sexual bonding under Jim’s father’s roof, even if the older man never mentioned it, so, armed with Jim’s savings and severance pay, which constituted a tidy sum, they had started checking out properties for sale. 

Within a remarkably short space of time, they had come across the loft apartment in a newly-converted warehouse, and had both fallen in love with it. It felt like home to both of them, and they wasted no time in arranging for its purchase. Although Blair felt bad about not being able to contribute financially, Jim was having none of it, explaining that he had more than enough to buy it outright, and as a committed sentinel and guide partnership, the lease would be in both their names. 

And so they had moved in, the excitement of preparing and decorating their home a good and necessary distraction from their public appearances, and once they felt settled, Jim began to think seriously about what he would like to do as a new career. Cuddled together in their new, king-sized bed, they had discussed the possibilities at length, knowing that Jim’s choice would necessarily impact on both of them. 

Having put the finishing touches to the lasagne, Blair began to prepare the salad and garlic bread he wanted to accompany it, and as he did so, he pondered on his own view of that discussion. He chuckled wryly to himself as he considered how his opinion had changed so dramatically. Because whereas once he had been convinced that his destiny lay in teaching the many, now he believed the opposite was actually true. He truly believed that he could make a real difference - have a much more lasting impact on society – as the guide and helpmeet to his sentinel. For sure, he would never stop wanting to study and learn, and to that end he had recommenced his doctoral programme at Rainier that Fall, and had been deeply touched by the warmth and kindness with which he had been welcomed by nearly everyone from students to staff. But he no longer hankered after a teaching assistant’s post, needing to divide his time between studying and working with his sentinel. And the doctorate itself would be the means to and end; one of which both he and Jim approved. 

For Jim had told him that night that he wanted to pursue a career as a cop, having given due thought to other options. Blair recalled fondly how relieved and grateful his lover had been when he willingly gave his approval, not that he would have dreamed of doing otherwise, even though he was naturally concerned about the potential dangers involved. Jim was, after all, hard-wired to be a protector and warrior, and what better way to do it in a civilian role than join a service whose very motto was ‘Protect and Serve’. 

So Jim had approached the PD, and had been welcomed with open arms. Almost immediately he had commenced an accelerated course at the academy designed for ex-servicemen and women and tailored even more specifically to accommodate a bonded sentinel. Unsurprisingly, he aced pretty much every aspect, his marksmanship, unarmed combat and forensic detection skills being naturally outstanding, so now he had graduated, he needed to learn where he would be assigned. As an alpha sentinel with a highly-rated guide, what he really wanted was to join the Major Crimes Unit where he believed he and Blair could have the greatest impact, although he was well aware that it was an elite squad and there was always plenty of competition for limited places. But if you didn’t ask, you didn’t get, and he certainly wasn’t backward in coming forward, as Blair fondly remarked. So that was where he was today – being interviewed by the unit’s recently appointed Captain, Simon Banks. And Blair truly hoped that he would be successful. In his admittedly biased opinion, Jim was the best of the best, and deserved the opportunity to use his gifts in the most prestigious and successful department. 

For his own part, since he needed to be able to ride with Jim on a regular basis, he had himself undergone a course designed for civilian partners. Although he had had basic firearms training at Ft Findlayson, he had never used one in anger, even in Venezuela, and was relieved to learn that he wouldn’t be expected to carry unless he particularly wanted to. However, he needed to be up to speed on all aspects of police procedures, and again unsurprisingly, he aced all written and oral tests. And he had been told that, once he achieved his doctorate in Anthropology, he would almost certainly be appointed as an official consultant with a commensurate pay grade and a good deal of prestige; not that the latter claim had made much impression on him, unassuming as he ever was. 

He felt a flutter of nerves in his tummy, wondering for the umpteenth time how Jim had fared at the interview, but knew that, whatever the outcome, and wherever they were ultimately assigned, they would work together, doing their best to protect the tribe, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Suddenly, he put down the plate of garlic bread he was holding, his empathic ‘spidey senses’ warning him that his sentinel lover was on his way home. He took a deep breath to settle his nerves, telling himself to calm down and be patient for just a little longer. He had every faith in Jim’s capability, but he really, _really_ wanted to know the results! 

And then Jim was unlocking the door. 

Barely waiting until his lover had dropped his keys into the basket on the table, Blair threw himself into Jim’s arms, to have the stuffing hugged out of him as they reconnected both physically and mentally with exquisite relief, their love arcing between them like a shining, golden cord, binding them forever as two halves of one soul.  


**Epilogue:**  


Long minutes later, they came up for air, having managed to end up on the nearest sofa with Blair straddling Jim’s lap. Gazing fondly at his guide’s beautiful, flushed face, and noting his excited, inquisitive expression, Jim didn’t have the heart to keep him waiting any longer. 

“Well, I did it Chief! You are now looking at Detective Ellison, Major Crimes Unit, Cascade PD!” 

“Oh, man! That’s fantastic, Jim! I’m so proud of you! I knew you’d be a shoo-in, and after all, it’s just another way of protecting the tribe, isn’t it? And it can’t be as dangerous as covert ops, can it?” 

Jim grinned a little wryly at his lover’s enthusiastic response. “Ah, well, I’m not too sure about that, kiddo. I’ve heard a few lurid tales about Cascade being one of the most dangerous cities in which to serve – as well as one of the wettest! But look at it this way. If we don’t like it, we can find something else to do! The world’s our oyster now, babe, and we’re free to choose our own path.” 

Blair smiled back, his love shining in his eyes and expression. “You’re right, man, and it’s true. Whichever way you look at it, this is a new beginning for us, and we can do with it as we will.” 

And as he pulled his smaller partner in for a hug and a loving kiss, Jim couldn’t agree more.  


**The End….?**   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Having finally finished this marathon, I should like to thank all those readers who offered their encouragement and support throughout either by leaving kudos or through much-appreciated constructive criticism. In particular, I need to thank the remarkable PattRose, my Superstar Cheerleader, who refused to let me pull the plug when I was sorely tempted to do so! Thank you, Sweetie!
> 
> Hugs, Kate x


End file.
